The Create-A-Hero RPG Season III IC Thread! - Part 1

[NiteMare Shape]

Isaac kicked the vent out and dropped to the floor.

Anderson was big. Far bigger than himself. The guy was built like an NFL linebacker... or possibly a fork lift truck, and completely dwarfed the former amateur middleweight.

[BLACKOUT]"And here I was thinking I'd been so quiet..."[/BLACKOUT]

"I know why you're here...and you're wasting your time." Anderson said bluntly, not hiding the disdain in his voice.

"Right now there's a squad of federal marshals on their way to take me into custody. Of course...something tells me that you already knew that."

 

[Hound55]

"I know why you're here...and you're wasting your time." Anderson said bluntly, not hiding the disdain in his voice.

"Right now there's a squad of federal marshals on their way to take me into custody. Of course...something tells me that you already knew that."

[BLACKOUT]"I'm not one for letting other people handle my dirty work..."[/BLACKOUT] Isaac uttered as he circled the enormous Director, his gutteral tone not lost through his voice modulator.

[BLACKOUT]"That and I'm not convinced you hadn't planned for them the second you attacked us..."[/BLACKOUT] Isaac continued to circle menacingly.

[BLACKOUT]"You should be honoured. I think you're a nutbag, not an idiot."[/BLACKOUT]

 

[NiteMare Shape]

[BLACKOUT]"I'm not one for letting other people handle my dirty work..."[/BLACKOUT] Isaac uttered as he circled the enormous Director, his gutteral tone not lost through his voice modulator.

[BLACKOUT]"That and I'm not convinced you hadn't planned for them the second you attacked us..."[/BLACKOUT] Isaac continued to circle menacingly.

[BLACKOUT]"You should be honoured. I think you're a nutbag, not an idiot."[/BLACKOUT]

"Believe what you want. It doesn't really matter. I suppose this is it then...go ahead and kill me, and you'll just be proving me right. And when you do that, what started today will never stop, not until every one of you are dead."

 

[Hound55]

"Believe what you want. It doesn't really matter. I suppose this is it then...go ahead and kill me, and you'll just be proving me right. And when you do that, what started today will never stop, not until every one of you are dead."

[BLACKOUT]"Every one of me? See, that's not how the public will see things. I'm the odd one out. In a house full of people who can bench press a truck, outrun a bullet and slice through steel with a flaming sword... I'm the odd one out."[/BLACKOUT]

Still circling.

[BLACKOUT]"Joe Sixpack. Mr Average... Hell, in that place, Mr Mediocre. But that's not the only thing about me... I do what needs to be done. In a way, I'm glad it wasn't Boy Blue, or the kid or any of the others here right now. They'd have to handle you with kids gloves. Scared that if anything happened to you they'd only make their situation worse. Knowing you, you'd probably planned on it. You might even try to go out Suicide-by-Metacop and rig this office with explosives."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"But that's not who you're dealing with today... And your bigoted type will have no martyr. Not that you'd be much of one anyway. For all your fear of the metahuman threat it was regular humans who you killed by the score."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"That's right. You'll be no martyr today. I'm taking you in myself..."[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac's mouth curled into an intimidating leer.

[BLACKOUT]"...but that doesn't mean I can't give you something to think about in your cell."[/BLACKOUT]

 

[NiteMare Shape]

[BLACKOUT]"Every one of me? See, that's not how the public will see things. I'm the odd one out. In a house full of people who can bench press a truck, outrun a bullet and slice through steel with a flaming sword... I'm the odd one out."[/BLACKOUT]

Still circling.

[BLACKOUT]"Joe Sixpack. Mr Average... Hell, in that place, Mr Mediocre. But that's not the only thing about me... I do what needs to be done. In a way, I'm glad it wasn't Boy Blue, or the kid or any of the others here right now. They'd have to handle you with kids gloves. Scared that if anything happened to you they'd only make their situation worse. Knowing you, you'd probably planned on it. You might even try to go out Suicide-by-Metacop and rig this office with explosives."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"But that's not who you're dealing with today... And your bigoted type will have no martyr. Not that you'd be much of one anyway. For all your fear of the metahuman threat it was regular humans who you killed by the score."[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]"That's right. You'll be no martyr today. I'm taking you in myself..."[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac's mouth curled into an intimidating leer.

[BLACKOUT]"...but that doesn't mean I can't give you something to think about in your cell."[/BLACKOUT]

Anderson listened to what the Vigilante had to say, and reluctantly agreed that he was right. Out of all of the members of the Guardians to be standing there at that very moment, it had to be this one.

Anderson felt a surge of anger rise up inside of him as he slowly reached behind him, gripping the pistol tucked securely in the back of his belt, the same gun he had used to terminate Elizabeth.

"I don't think so, friend. I'm not going anywhere with you."

 

[MST3K 4ever]

I relax while she circles me, relaxing only so that I can move easier, move fluidly, less rigid. Its kind of unnerving just what she seems capable of. Shapeshifting, and apparently some kind of power that would be devastating here if not used properly.

"It's not much of a story to tell." I never take my eyes off of her, or might the female form be only some kind of disguise? Something that would allow the true form to perhaps pass through a crowd unrecognized. Or with gender malable assumedy, would it be an it? But thats not the point, right now there's a fight. "But ''Guardians'' isnt broad enough a term!" I lash out with kicks and moves barrowed from various combat styles. Jeet Kun Do, Wushu and Southern Dragon Kung Fu. She doesnt think I can take blood on my hands?...Maybe I can't. But until Im there I aint sayin no. And she doesnt even know what my powers are, some kind of educated guess, but its still far off. I can do things I would say are a little more devastating. And her not knowing only plays to my advantage. I draw my fist back and push it forward with everything I've got. Did I mention the firefight going on around us, yea, there's bullets whizzing through the air that I was fighting my instincts to avoid. I took a few, but the matter and energy I absorbed when I felt the first sharp alerts of pain happen given me more juice to use. It isnt much, hell its not really enough to actually call it juice, a generator, electric or radioactive would be better suited for "juicing" up. Then I'd be dangerous.

Eve shapeshifts back to her normal self after taking the hits and takes a knee.

Okay enough screwing around and "playing hurt"...he's good and his hits are only doing damage to my human qualities...can't show too much though. Ahh the joys of being a secret cyborg.

Eve stands up and says, "I may not be Mr. Wizard or ready for my MENSA membership but I know this..."

She fires a pellet from The Serpent and it just sits there flashing and is absorbed into him. She keeps her finger over top the button.

Eve says, "Regardless of your powers that pellet I just fired into you is not something you can use to your advantage."

She smirks and says, "That pellet is filled with liquid nitrogen. I press the button again it'll explode and I know enough about science to know that everything frezzes."

Eve stops smiling and says, " Think of it kind of like Napalm. Once the pellet shell is cracked it will expand and freeze you the slightest breeze will turn you into a Pinata."

Eve slowly begins applying pressure to the button and says, "Your call. Walk away or take a very large step towards suspended animation and eternity."

 

[Hound55]

Anderson listened to what the Vigilante had to say, and reluctantly agreed that he was right. Out of all of the members of the Guardians to be standing there at that very moment, it had to be this one.

Anderson felt a surge of anger rise up inside of him as he slowly reached behind him, gripping the pistol tucked securely in the back of his belt, the same gun he had used to terminate Elizabeth.

"I don't think so, friend. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Isaac sees the Director’s hand furtively slip behind himself, a sight he’s seen many times over the past decade, and knew instantly what was coming. Difference is on those occasions he didn’t hold equal fire power…

Isaac’s hand dropped to his hip and he pulled steel. Instincts took over and his hand didn’t waver at all. The Desert Eagle flashed a sneer on the draw as light reflected from the overheads and stared the Director down coldly, while his own pistol returned its gaze to the Vigilante.

[BLACKOUT]“I already said you’d be no martyr. Just because I want to take you in with a pulse doesn’t mean it has to end that way…”[/BLACKOUT]

A few seconds which felt like hours passed and the Desert Eagle began to tremble slightly in his hands as the adrenaline started to work out of his system.

[BLACKOUT]“Looks like we have ourselves a Mexican stand-off…”[/BLACKOUT]

Beads of sweat began to run down the Vigilante’s brow inside of his balaklava.

[BLACKOUT]“Actually, no… I think it’s three guns in a Mexican stand-off. Isn’t it?”[/BLACKOUT] his voice, though crackling slightly with fear, coming clearly through voice modulator. Odd that this would get to him. It wasn't like he wasn't used to getting shot at, it was just a new sensation to stand his ground whilst holding a piece himself.

Clik!

Isaac felt a slight nudge against his temple as the barrel of the new comers pistol pushed against his head. He mouthed an obscenity before addressing the newcomer, still not turning his head away from Anderson.

[BLACKOUT]“Actually I think we all have to be pointing a gun at one another… That’s how a Mexican Stand-off traditionally works isn’t it..?”[/BLACKOUT]

Sureshot, the man who was Henry Patton, didn’t say a word. He just flashed a chillingly psychotic leer. He’d have dreamed about this moment if his dreams weren’t his own private hell.

 

[Hound55]

Anderson listened to what the Vigilante had to say, and reluctantly agreed that he was right. Out of all of the members of the Guardians to be standing there at that very moment, it had to be this one.

Anderson felt a surge of anger rise up inside of him as he slowly reached behind him, gripping the pistol tucked securely in the back of his belt, the same gun he had used to terminate Elizabeth.

"I don't think so, friend. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Isaac sees the Director’s hand furtively slip behind himself, a sight he’s seen many times over the past decade, and knew instantly what was coming. Difference is on those occasions he didn’t hold equal fire power…

Isaac’s hand dropped to his hip and he pulled steel. Instincts took over and his hand didn’t waver at all. The Desert Eagle flashed a sneer on the draw as light reflected from the overheads and stared the Director down coldly, while his own pistol returned its gaze to the Vigilante.

[BLACKOUT]“I already said you’d be no martyr. Just because I want to take you in with a pulse doesn’t mean it has to end that way…”[/BLACKOUT]

A few seconds which felt like hours passed and the Desert Eagle began to tremble slightly in his hands as the adrenaline started to work out of his system.

[BLACKOUT]“Looks like we have ourselves a Mexican stand-off…”[/BLACKOUT]

Beads of sweat began to run down the Vigilante’s brow inside of his balaklava.

[BLACKOUT]“Actually, no… I think it’s three guns in a Mexican stand-off. Isn’t it?”[/BLACKOUT] his voice, though crackling slightly with fear, coming clearly through voice modulator. Odd that this would get to him. It wasn't like he wasn't used to getting shot at, it was just a new sensation to stand his ground whilst holding a piece himself.

Clik!

Isaac felt a slight nudge against his temple as the barrel of the new comers pistol pushed against his head. He mouthed an obscenity before addressing the newcomer, still not turning his head away from Anderson.

[BLACKOUT]“Actually I think we all have to be pointing a gun at one another… That’s how a Mexican Stand-off traditionally works isn’t it..?”[/BLACKOUT]

Sureshot, the man who was Henry Patton, didn’t say a word. He just flashed a chillingly psychotic leer. He’d have dreamed about this moment if his dreams weren’t his own private hell.

Sureshot​

Vengeance at the squeeze of a trigger. Retribution. It would be so simple to do.

But too fast.

This wasn’t a moment for a flourish of slaughter. The release would feel so good (OH SO GOOD!) but too quick. Like chugging fine wine or devouring the perfect steak. This was something to be savoured. Part of him wished he’d had the chance to do more than just the doctor. It felt so good, but this had come too soon. Like being with a supermodel for your first in a one night stand. Where do you go from there?

But he can’t know this. I need to keep him alive. Alive but incapacitated, so I can take him somewhere and do this right. Take my time and do this properly. But how can I do that?

And Anderson…

There’s no way I could explain this to him. “Sir, I don’t really want to shoot him now. Can’t I take him out back and take some chunks out of him for the next couple of hours? Slice off a couple odds and ends while I hear him scream? Feed him his own balls while he cries like a b**** and begs me to just kill him already? Make him endure just a fraction of what he’s put me through every night since I met him?” Yeah right, I’m sure he’d understand that…

Hell, he's looking at me... Why's he looking at me like that..?

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Isaac sees the Director’s hand furtively slip behind himself, a sight he’s seen many times over the past decade, and knew instantly what was coming. Difference is on those occasions he didn’t hold equal fire power…

Isaac’s hand dropped to his hip and he pulled steel. Instincts took over and his hand didn’t waver at all. The Desert Eagle flashed a sneer on the draw as light reflected from the overheads and stared the Director down coldly, while his own pistol returned its gaze to the Vigilante.

[BLACKOUT]“I already said you’d be no martyr. Just because I want to take you in with a pulse doesn’t mean it has to end that way…”[/BLACKOUT]

A few seconds which felt like hours passed and the Desert Eagle began to tremble slightly in his hands as the adrenaline started to work out of his system.

[BLACKOUT]“Looks like we have ourselves a Mexican stand-off…”[/BLACKOUT]

Beads of sweat began to run down the Vigilante’s brow inside of his balaklava.

[BLACKOUT]“Actually, no… I think it’s three guns in a Mexican stand-off. Isn’t it?”[/BLACKOUT] his voice, though crackling slightly with fear, coming clearly through voice modulator. Odd that this would get to him. It wasn't like he wasn't used to getting shot at, it was just a new sensation to stand his ground whilst holding a piece himself.

Clik!

Isaac felt a slight nudge against his temple as the barrel of the new comers pistol pushed against his head. He mouthed an obscenity before addressing the newcomer, still not turning his head away from Anderson.

[BLACKOUT]“Actually I think we all have to be pointing a gun at one another… That’s how a Mexican Stand-off traditionally works isn’t it..?”[/BLACKOUT]

Sureshot, the man who was Henry Patton, didn’t say a word. He just flashed a chillingly psychotic leer. He’d have dreamed about this moment if his dreams weren’t his own private hell.

Sureshot​

Vengeance at the squeeze of a trigger. Retribution. It would be so simple to do.

But too fast.

This wasn’t a moment for a flourish of slaughter. The release would feel so good (OH SO GOOD!) but too quick. Like chugging fine wine or devouring the perfect steak. This was something to be savoured. Part of him wished he’d had the chance to do more than just the doctor. It felt so good, but this had come too soon. Like being with a supermodel for your first in a one night stand. Where do you go from there?

But he can’t know this. I need to keep him alive. Alive but incapacitated, so I can take him somewhere and do this right. Take my time and do this properly. But how can I do that?

And Anderson…

There’s no way I could explain this to him. “Sir, I don’t really want to shoot him now. Can’t I take him out back and take some chunks out of him for the next couple of hours? Slice off a couple odds and ends while I hear him scream? Feed him his own balls while he cries like a b**** and begs me to just kill him already? Make him endure just a fraction of what he’s put me through every night since I met him?” Yeah right, I’m sure he’d understand that…

Hell, he's looking at me... Why's he looking at me like that..?

"No Vigilante, what we have here is the end of the line. Take him out Sureshot, now."

 

[Hound55]

"B-b-b-ut Sir..." Sureshot struggled with the words. With no idea how to explain what he wanted to his superior.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

"B-b-b-ut Sir..." Sureshot struggled with the words. With no idea how to explain what he wanted to his superior.

"That's an order Sureshot. Take him out NOW!"

 

[Hound55]

There’s no way I could explain this to him. “Sir, I don’t really want to shoot him now. Can’t I take him out back and take some chunks out of him for the next couple of hours? Slice off a couple odds and ends while I hear him scream? Feed him his own balls while he cries like a b**** and begs me to just kill him already? Make him endure just a fraction of what he’s put me through every night since I met him?” Yeah right, I’m sure he’d understand that…

Hell, he's looking at me... Why's he looking at me like that..?

"No Vigilante, what we have here is the end of the line. Take him out Sureshot, now."

"B-b-b-ut Sir..." Sureshot struggled with the words. With no idea how to explain what he wanted to his superior.

"That's an order Sureshot. Take him out NOW!"

No. He'd never understand. Not him. Never. He'd still be dead, but not how HE wanted. He always wants. He wants what he wants what he wants what he wants... He'd take anything for what he wants...

"BUT NOT THIS!!!" Henry Patton shouted in a lunatic furor. Out of instinct those ever-so-precise hands turn the handgun from the Vigilante towards his demanding supervisor.

He'd make a decent appetizer before the main course, Sureshot thought.

There wasn't time to think of much else. It happened so fast.

The black clad hero took advantage of the gun being pointed away from him by driving his elbow into his ribs and pushing his gun and arms away. The Vigilante took something else away again. Perfect hands, made for slaughter were denied their purpose as his shot went from a "killshot" to a mere wound. The bullet fell low and to the right, a gut shot that somehow managed to miss the really vital organs whilst sinking into the S.T.R.I.K.E Director's belly.

Anderson was in no position to celebrate the fact that he still had his life.

Or even to celebrate his own achievement. A two-fer.

Sureshot's bellowing gave him ample time to set his own new target and get a shot off. In fact he fired off two. The first gunflash sent a bullet into his original target, the Vigilante. He dropped to the ground after ruining Sureshot's purpose, as what felt like a ball of radiant heat pushed him to the ground. The second shot cut a trajectory directly through his new target. It's entry wound was in the right side of his torso. It exited after fracturing a rib and a small sucking wound which would eventually collapse his lung. Sureshot dropped like a shot bird.

All three men lay sprawled across the floor of the luxurious office.

The owner of the office tried to sit up, his gut felt like it was on fire. He called out, but nobody came. It wasn't necessary, the gunshots would have been call enough.

The first thing Isaac felt was surprise, surprise that he was still alive to experience anything. He couldn't feel the shot, but he was able to feel the warmth of the area in the back of his shoulder.

The only thing Sureshot felt was pain. Pain so powerful that he lost all awareness and lay on the floor his mouth agape attempting to deal with the affect of the shot on his lungs. He had gone immediately into shock.

Seconds past, and the Vigilante got to a knee, gun still in hand...

Alexander Anderson was having a losing struggle, he was starting to go into shock himself. But he saw movement. It was the Vigilante, but he couldn't identify who it was. It didn't matter, everyone in the room wanted him gone.

The Vigilante got both feet planted and turned, seeing the Director slouched over.

Anderson recognized him now. "He's still coming... How is he still coming? I need something to stop him with." Despite fighting off shock his mind still worked well enough, even as his body failed him.

The Vigilante walked over. No limp, no slouch or hunch. Gun in hand.

"He's going to shoot me. He's going to take his gun and shoot me... His GUN! I've still got my gun!" Awareness started to return to the Director, and he swung his arm and gun around.

But then he flinched.

The pain of moving was unbearable. The pistol felt like a lead weight in his hand and his arm slumped to the floor before he could take aim.

Isaac pistol-whipped the Director across the face with his own heavy Desert Eagle and the director sank into unconsciousness immediately.

Isaac stood alone in the room and looked down at his hand. The firearm Gunny kept trying to foist onto him. He'd finally used it. ...As a bludgeon. [BLACKOUT]"I'm definitely not cut out for this gun s***."[/BLACKOUT] he said to himself, as the Federal Marshals burst in and secured the room.

 

[Hound55]

Director Alexander Anderson gets lifted onto an ambulance under Federal Marshal custody, complete with Marshal escort.

[BLACKOUT]"Hmm... no fish."[/BLACKOUT] Isaac observed.

"What was that?" Responded the man in charge.

[BLACKOUT]"Nothing."[/BLACKOUT] No point trying to explain it. Isaac thought to himself.

"You know we could patch you up too."

[BLACKOUT]"I'll be fine."[/BLACKOUT] he uttered gruffly.

"Well, it doesn't seem to have effected you too much, you're not favoring it but there's a lot that can go wrong in the shoulder. The brachial artery..."

[BLACKOUT]"...is fine. Or we'd be dealing with a lot more blood."[/BLACKOUT] Isaac had done a makeshift job patching his shoulder with the duct tape he kept for strapping his wrists and ankles. To his best knowledge he'd kept his blood on his clothes (which were soaked with it) and not in the crime scene. Another small grace for the paranoid.

"Fair enough." the Marshal said resignedly.

"...what about the other guy? We rushed him to hospital first, but his lung's collapsed. Condition just got downgraded from 'critical' last I heard."

[BLACKOUT]"What about him?"[/BLACKOUT]

"Well he was working closely for him. Had you at gunpoint if your report is accurate."

[BLACKOUT]"It is..."[/BLACKOUT] Isaac gave the Marshal a look of disdain. [BLACKOUT]"Look. The guy just worked there. He was trying to catch an intruder his boss demanded everyone look for. The second his boss told him to kill me he cut loose and shot his boss. If anything, the guy's a hero. Patch him up and cut him loose. It's not his fault his boss was a lunatic."[/BLACKOUT]

"Sure thing. Now what?"

[BLACKOUT]"I don't know about you but I need a shower and a rest. It's been a hell of a week. Frankly I'm just glad it's all over, I can go clean up and everything can get back to normal..."[/BLACKOUT]

 

[NiteMare Shape]

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With the wormhole closed, Icon finally had no more to give. He closed his eyes and began to fall back toward the earth. As he fell, a million things ran through his mind. He thought of his friends, particularly Eric and how over the years he had kept the secret of his dual identity. He thought about Keira, and how since Lisa died during the invasion, she had kept him grounded...and more importantly he thought of how much he had grown to love her.

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[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]Starlight and the others watched in horror as they watched Icon fall from the sky. Starlight had expected him to alter his course and soar over the city like he has done so many times, but he did not. Instead, he continued falling until he crash landed the length of several football fields away. They raced over to where he landed, and found him laying unnaturally still inside of the massive crater that had been created upon impact. Starlight looked down at the man who had become her friend in total shock. She never thought that she would see the day when he looked so vulnerable.

She raced to his side, and kneeling beside him she cradled his head in her arms. As she held him, she was shocked by the amount of blood that he had lost. His shredded blue and sliver costume had turned crimson due to the blood that was oozing from his stomach wound.
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​

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As he lay cradled in her arms, he took a pair of deep breaths and then his body finally gave in to succumbed to his injuries. His head rolled back slightly and then his body relaxed.

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Keira's heart froze as the scene unfolded in front of her on the television. As she watched, she found herself growing frustrated that even with all the different camera angles, she still couldn't see what was going on.

He finally exhaled a breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding and turned to Eric, who seemed equally concerned. Neither said a word, they just sat there in a stunned silence as they stared fixated on the television screen.

"I need to get over there." Keira finally said, breaking the silence.

"What?" Eric said as he turned to her in wide eyed astonishment. "Are you crazy?!"

"No...Eric...it's Scott. He needs us." She says trying to hold back the tears that threatened to burst forth.

"I...I know Keira. But there's no way we can get anywhere near him. And even if we could, we don't even know if he's ali...." Eric stopped himself from saying anything further. There had been no word on Scott's condition, and it didn't look good...and they both feared the worst. But still they held out hope, yet by saying what he was about to say he knew that he would give voice to their worst fears. Something that he wasn't willing to do just yet.

He looked over to Keira who's determined expression told him that she knew that they probably couldn't get anywhere near him...but she was damned sure going to try. Because that was the man that she loved, and if this were the end...she was going to be as close to him as she could possibly get.

"Alright. I'll get the keys."

 

[sabetoonth]

Eve shapeshifts back to her normal self after taking the hits and takes a knee.

Okay enough screwing around and "playing hurt"...he's good and his hits are only doing damage to my human qualities...can't show too much though. Ahh the joys of being a secret cyborg.

Eve stands up and says, "I may not be Mr. Wizard or ready for my MENSA membership but I know this..."

She fires a pellet from The Serpent and it just sits there flashing and is absorbed into him. She keeps her finger over top the button.

Eve says, "Regardless of your powers that pellet I just fired into you is not something you can use to your advantage."

She smirks and says, "That pellet is filled with liquid nitrogen. I press the button again it'll explode and I know enough about science to know that everything frezzes."

Eve stops smiling and says, " Think of it kind of like Napalm. Once the pellet shell is cracked it will expand and freeze you the slightest breeze will turn you into a Pinata."

Eve slowly begins applying pressure to the button and says, "Your call. Walk away or take a very large step towards suspended animation and eternity."

I freeze, I dont know what it is until she explains, and I panic, something like this I dont know if my powers might work on it but why not? You'd think, since I can asborb pretty much everything else and convert it to power. I'm going to run a bluff. Tell her what I can do, see how she takes it, plan the next step from there. Still rigid from the situation, that I may become a pile of shattered ice. and when it melted, something like chili from an expensive sounding italian or spanish resteraunt. There was an episode of Bones that had a corpse found like that in bags during a photo shoot.

...What? It's a really good show!

"Maybe knowing what I can do will change your mind?" I dont walk towards her. I move in a strafing fashion, not gaining, if anything losing ground on her. "I can absorb anything, anything, matter, energy. And then convert it into power." If se has the inclination Im afraid, which I am. I've already lost and might as well run to lick my wounds with my tail between my legs. Im no coward. Even if they survive. my mouth feels dry in this nervous moment. This could be the end of the line for me. God I hope not. Of course its then that I detect with my ears something happening overhead.

I turn to the sky in time to see two colored figures, I really cant make out their identities from here, floating in the air, one opening something that sends chill running down my black spine. Its a wormhole, there's nothing else it could be. And it could destroy everything on the planet if made large enough. That is if it didnt simply transport it through time and space or just time, or just space. Of course I actually dont know for sure, I hardly know about black holes and I am one. You could count the hours it seemed with how long it took things to unfold up there. The second figured collided with the first and in due course sent it into the wormhole. It's a sight that brings only a few words to my mouth: "Oh my god..."

I find myself still staring at the sky even after the final figure falls out of the sky as a leaf from a tree might. Only...heavier. I have only ideas and imagination to fill the gaps in answers to the questions in my head. I also start thinking about if now is a good time to make off with my life intact and not test the effectiveness of the little gadget she's stuck to me. I hate the idea but right now it is an option I rather favor.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Eve watches as the Wormhole over head open up and eventually close as well. She is unable to make out exactly what is happening, but it does leave her with a profound sense of awe and in some ways fear.

Suddenly the Black Hole guy is not that big of a priority.

Deacon Hawk calls in and says, "Eve hold your position. The crowds gathered there could decide that now is the perfect time to make a run at the HQ."

Eve looks at the gathered crowd and they too are not really interested in what is happening in front of them anymore.

Eve says, "Show's over! Disperse! Or do I need to do another show of force?"

The crowd begins back away and some begin to leave.

Eve says under her breath, "That's what I thought."

She continues to keep an eye on things.

Who knows I just might make it as a superhero after all.

*********************************************

Meanwhile at the Mansion of Adam Phoenix.

Adam flicks some switches and a button as a large metal construct glows slightly at an electronic box.

The Box barely moves then the beam shuts down.

Adam reads over the results and smiles.

Colter enters and watches Adam's reaction. Colter asks, "Is the test a success sir?"

Adma nods and says, "Better than I hoped Colter! This box is an exact replica of her neural net. I fired this modified EMP at it and it showed no outward signs of damage but the inside is pretty well paralyzed. Very promising!"

Colter asks, "And when do you plan on unleashing this upon her sir?"

Adam replies, "Sooner than later. I need to make a modification on the size of the blaster and come up with a way to spring it on her and some other minor modifications, but this proves that my theory will work. Miss Eve is in for a defeat she will never forget."

He looks at his watch and says, "You better get ready for another appearance at the plant." Adam raises his eyebrows and says, "Mr. Phoenix."

Colter bows slightly and says, "Of course sir. I'll take the Bentley today and I'll make sure your treatments are ready before I go."

Adam turns his attention back to the readings and says, "Thank you Colter."

Colter turns and leaves.

 

[wiegeabo]

The movies would have you believe that ventilation shafts are man-sized mini-transportation tubes.

Yeah, that's crap.

Most of them are too small for a dog to crawl through. But some have to be large in order to handle the air flow of their many branches. So one could squeeze through them.

Doing so silently when they're slippery as hell takes real skill though. And it takes a long, long time. So long, that I'm not sure just how much time I have left to save I don't know how many people.

So I can't hold off anymore. I let that feeling wash over my body and the light bends around me. I rush for the location on the map in my head as safely as I feel comfortable with.

Luckily, I don't think the guards were expecting anyone to make it this far. Security seems light. But this time I don't tempt fate and open my mental mouth. Instead, I just focus and move, and I'm to the office I need in no time.

And through the windows, I can see the half dozen well armed, and well armored, agents inside, with what just has to be the meta-bomb tucked safely in the corner so they can guard it.

...**** you fate. Just...**** you.

Ok. Tricky. But not impossible. I've been in...no, I haven't. But I can do this. I'm not the Invisible Man for nothing. It's because I got caught breaking into an old rich guy's apartment-

STOP THINKING LIKE THAT!

I take a couple of deep breaths and think this through. I feel the guns strapped to me. One probably won't work, and the other might, but will get me dead if I use it. I'm not trained for gun play.

I'm not trained...but these guys are.

Yeah, they are. I smile.

***

One of the windows shatter as I toss my tranq gun through it. Bullets riddle the wall for a few seconds before the guards realize they didn't hit anything. While they keep their weapons trained on the newly formed hole, I jump inside right in font of them, my heart beating in my throat.

Rolling on the floor, I shout "On your right!" They all turn, rifles at the ready as my shots ring out, dropping one. Even if you're wearing body armor, getting shot at point blank range is a real *****.

Keeping the momentum going, I run up behind another agent, grab his arm, and put a few rounds into one of his buddies with his own gun. Before his surprise can register, I've run off, and the trio left put mistakenly put him on the ground too.

I drop to the ground and throw the downed agent's gun at the wall. The impact distracts the group, and I put down a fourth agent while his friends fire randomly this time. Hoping this actually works, I let the quicksilver flake off my gun and toss it between the last two. Hyped on adrenaline and running and instinct, they fire at the movement, taking each other out.

In less than a minute, I'm the only one standing in a room filled with the smell of gunfire. I become visible again.

"Wow."

Wait...almost forgot about the bomb.

I take a step towards it, and drop to my knees, grabbing me head in pain.

No! Not now...

 

[wiegeabo]

Too long. I was invisible for way too long. And now it's become a blinding pain, and I lay on the floor fighting through the haze while I slap my pockets trying to remember where I put that eppy pen.

"Dammit!" Still patting my clothes, I force myself up and stumble to the bomb. No way I can try defusing it now. Even as the wave of pain passes, I don't want to have my hands digging through wires when the next one hits.

"AHA!" I pull the pen out and hold it in triumph, take a breath, and jab it into my thigh. The relief washes away the pain in my leg and I sigh with satisfaction.

"Oh, right. The bomb."

And the timer has pretty much counted down.

Have to slow it down. Stop it. Buy myself some time. But how do I give myself the time to get inside and slow it down without first getting inside to slow it down.

"...Nah, that's a crazy idea." I've done it before, but not like this.

"What the hell do I have to lose? Except my sanity...and maybe my life."

I put my hands on the bomb and let the quicksilver flow. I know quicksilver gets cold, absorbing all light and heat. Now I'm about to find out just how cold I can get it. And see just what that little shot in the leg has bought me.

The quicksilver gives me a peek inside at the devices guts. And I can see exactly what I needed, according to the plans the Fatman's friend gave us. I just need this damn counter to not trigger...Just. Stop. Ticking!

***

Hawkes pulls out his ringing cell while driving the van as fast as the old thing can manage. He glances at the number. "Cole? Cole, what happened?!"

"...Oh, nothing much. Took down a half dozen armed agents. Gave myself a booster shot in the leg. Froze a bomb and deactivated it before going all red-eye..."

"So you're good?"

"Well, if good means being on the floor, trying to ignore a phantom knife in my skull..."

"We're on our way, partner. You just hold on. The Doc's gonna fix you right up." He glances at her in the passenger seat.

"Thanks for making me sound like an addict. Now, if you don't mind...think...gonna pass out...now..."

***

"Darren? Darren? Can you hear me?"

I groggily focus on the voice in my head. "That you, Doc?"

"Glad to have you back with us."

"Ugh. What's the point of a hangover without the party beforehand?"

"You did good partner."

"Indeed," the Fatman's unmistakable voice adds.

"So it's all over, Charlie? Did we win?"

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Three days had passed since Icon had given his life while saving the world from the creature known as Endgame. The television news had been showing a constant feed of coverage regarding Icon's death, some even showing footage of the final moments of the battle, and then the heartbreaking moment when the Guardians had surrounded their leader as he took his final breath.

The city had planned an elaborate funeral, closing down the streets around Sherman Square in order for the procession to safely make its way to Mt. Olympus Memorial Park, where he would be entombed. Aside from members of the Guardians and other heroes, dignitaries and leaders from around the world had begun flocking into the city to be there when he was finally laid to rest.

In the apartment that she shared with Flux, Starlight straightened her dress and put the finishing touches on her makeup, only to have to start all over again when her mascara was ruined as tears began to flow, leaving black streaks running down her cheeks.

***

People began lining the streets several hours before the procession was set to begin in hopes of getting a good spot along the route. Some wanted to be there to give thanks one last time to a man who had given everything he had and more to protect them, and had paid the ultimate price for those heroics. Others wanted to be there just out of curiosity, while others just wanted to be there for the sake of being there, while there were those who just wanted to say goodbye.

As the procession made its way through the streets, a number of notable heroes could be seen walking in unison with the Guardians, who served as the pall bearers. Spirit of America and Eagle Scout, Electron, Mantis and The Citizen were just a few of the notable heroes how had come come to Lost Haven to stand at Icon's side for one final time.

The procession made its way through the large gates of Mt Olympus Memorial Park, and as it did the large crowd filed in until the park was completely filled to capacity. The park had not seen as large of a turnout since the park's dedication in the days following the Alien Invasion. On that day, Icon himself addressed the crowd and announced the formation of The Guardians.

A number of speakers took to the podium which had been erected near the memorial site that had been designated for him, and one after another they spoke about the virtues of a man who had sacrificed so much, including his very life to help complete strangers. Some even gave first hand testimonials about how Icon had helped them personally.

Eventually, the last speaker had said his piece, and The Guardians proceeded with his casket into the tomb where they would at last lay their leader, their comrade, and most importantly...their friend to rest.

***

A small group gathered around a pile of firewood in the back yard of the Morse home in Conway New Hampshire. Long before he was Icon, Scott Morse played in the woods that covered the 5 acre plot of land in which the family home sat upon. And in the back of the yard, where the neatly manicured lawn meets the forest, his closest friends and family lay him to rest in their own way. Instead of going to the funeral for Icon in Lost Haven, the Morse family, along with Keira and Eric stood in relative silence as Jacob Morse, Scott's adoptive father lit the fire.

While their son was receiving a service in the city usually reserved for heads of state, they had gathered some of Scott's personal items that personified who he was as a person. Items such as his high school letterman's jacket, his favorite toys from when he was a child, all of which were kept in pristine condition by Mrs. Morse, even the tattered remains of Scott's very first Icon costume, which she had kept since the day he brought the burnt and torn uniform to her hoping that maybe she could repair it. She had told him that the suit was beyond repair, and that she would just dispose of it. But she never did. She could never bring herself to get rid of it, yet on that night, it just seemed fitting.

With a single red rose in hand,Keira watched as Jacob Morse ignited the fire, unable to contain the tears she had been holding in since she had arrived to the Morse home any longer, and she began to weep. Eric did his best to console her, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder, knowing that it would do little good. He had grown up with Scott, they had first met each other in the 7th grade and had been nearly inseparable since that day. He had been the first person outside of the family to know Scott's secret. Scott had been his best friend, and had been there for him whenever he had needed anything. However, in Scott's greatest moment of need, Eric hadn't been there for him. He knew that it was stupid to feel that way, that there was nothing that he could have done, and he had told himself that over and over again, yet some guilt persisted. It was something that he had told himself that he would just have to live with.

They stood in front of the blaze watching as Jacob Morse took the box holding Scott's keepsakes from his wife, and slowly walked toward the fire. Taking great care, he placed the box on top of the firewood. Within moments, fire had engulfed the box of mementos, and there was nothing that any of them could do but watch.

After several moments, Keira approached the fire and gently lay the rose atop of the burning box. With tears in her eyes as she watched petals burn along with Scott's keepsakes, she silently said goodbyes to the man that she loved.​

 

[wiegeabo]

Icon had only been gone for a few days, but even through the grief, the world still goes on, and lives move forward. Part of that means picking up the pieces. Which is what the Guardians now do in the remain of their headquarters.

They've been at it for some time, sifting through memories. But when they get to the control room, the works stops as they notice the item on the damaged table. It's a doubly surprising find when they realize what it is. An invitation.

Two day later, they arrive at the appointed location, on guard and suspicious. As they make their way through the building, it appears empty. But they press on.

Finally, the arrive at the office they were to go to. Preparing themselves for what may be on the other side, they open the door.

Inside, a man and woman stand behind a desk. On one side of the desk stands a shorter, balding man, arms crossed over his chest, with a serious look on his face. Opposite him, a taller man sits on the edge of the desk wearing a casual smile.

And sitting at the desk is a large man.

The Guardians just stand there in confusion.

The Director stands up.

"Congratulations. You've just been drafted."