The "Rise Of Marvels" RPG, Year One

[Matt Murdock]

IC: Tony Stark / Iron Man

BOOM!​

Tony Stark ducked his head out of instinct, narrowly missing a massive chunk of debris that flew over his head into the casino. The glass wall at the front of the building shattered, and a group of men, all dressed in black, rappelled into the main hall of the building.

Each held firmly in his hand an AK-47 with a front-mounted laser-sight. Smoke filled the interior of the building, and the beams cut through the fog. Jim Rhodes, squinting so as to see the men attacking Stark Tower, drew his sidearm and aimed it at the origin of one of the beams.

BOOM!

​

Another explosion shook one of the walls of the casino, filling the air with even more debris and rubble. Onlookers screamed, and the first shots rang out.

RATTA-TAT-TAT!

Rhodes spun his head and fired three shots in the direction of the blasts.

BLAMBLAMBLAM!

Tony Stark covered his ears, and leaned back into the bar.

He felt a body slump next to him, and mutter in his ear.

"Gamma, gamma, gamma."

The voice belonged to Stark's chief bodyguard, Harold Hogan.

One of the benefits of having a bodyguard who was ex-special forces was that every escape plan had a Greek character attached to it, making every plan easily relayed from guard to employer. Stark nodded, comprehending Hogan's message, and vaulted over the bar, easily making his way once more into the corridors leading to his private elevator.

Slightly winded, Tony Stark came face to face with one of the terrorists.

"Funny seeing you here." He muttered.

The terrorist, caught off guard, failed to draw his pistol in time, and was met with a stern punch to the jaw.

Reeling backwards, the terrorist drew a knife from his back, eager to ram it into Stark's throat.

Pacing himself, Tony Stark quietly stepped around the man.

He sent his right fist forward like a rocket. It slammed into the man's jaw, barely phasing him. The knife slammed upwards into Stark's forearm and he cursed under his breath.

BLAM!

Blood seeped out of a bullet wound in the Asian's chest and onto his black combat uniform.

BLAM!

A bullet tore into the man's skull, sending him face-first into a wall, dead.

Stark turned around slowly and saw the barrel of Hogan's gun still smoking as he held it steadily in his hands.

"I could've taken him." Stark said, wiggling the knife from his arm.

Hogan, anything but lighthearted in this situation, wrapped his tie around Stark's forearm, alleviating some of the bleeding.

"Let's go." He said, taking Stark through the series of paths that led to the car garage.

As they burst into the parking lot, Stark slammed his fist onto a button on the wall.

A garage opened up, revealing two high performance sports cars, each with the same license plate.

​

Stark and Hogan nodded at each other as they took their places in the driving seats of both vehicles. The engines roared, the lights ignited, and both sets of tires screamed as the men tore out of the parking spaces.

As they approached the street level of the garage, the lights of a black, shipping van illuminated the rear-view mirrors of each men.

Stark glanced at Hogan from across the road and solemnly nodded.

Racing over speed bumps carelessly, Stark felt his grip tighten around the wheel. As much as he didn't like to admit it, he found this incredibly thrilling.

The axles and tires screeched as Stark and Hogan drove through two barricades that led to the street. Stark bore right, and Hogan went left, narrowly avoiding oncoming traffic. The van from the garage pummeled a sedan at the intersection as the two Audis ripped into the New York City street. Stark glanced in his rear view mirror to see smoke pouring out of the front of his building. From amidst the smoke pouring out of the building, a pair of blue headlights emerged, pointed straight for Stark's car.

He felt his face contort and he pulled out his cell phone, dialing Hogan.

​

"Hogan, I've got a van on my tail." Stark said, continuously glancing in his mirror.

He heard Hogan make a slew of disgruntled noises until finally speaking.

"Well, open her up."

The line promptly went dead and Stark grinned.

"Thought you'd never ask..." He muttered to nobody in particular.

He opened the center console, still keeping his eyes on the road.

Within the console, lay a biometric hand scanner, capable of identifying specific individuals with nothing more than a handprint. As he lay his palm onto the scanner, his navigational system activated, illustrating the scanning process.

​

The dashboard went dark for a moment, as the computer program loaded. Soon, though, an electronic voice spoke in the vehicle.

"Welcome to The Stark Driver Interface, V. 2.0." It said."If you use EyeDraw or StarkSight, please wait."

Tony Stark wheeled around a corner, narrowly missing an old man with a shopping cart.

"Gathering user data..."

"C'mon... C'mon!" He said, weaving in and out of traffic, heading for the highway.

After about thirty seconds, the interior of the vehicle almost instantaneously changed.

Stark's seat leaned backwards, and cupped around his thighs more. The gas and brake pedals extended so that they fit around his feet, like the bottom of a sandal, instead of just under them. The seat back curved at the top, bracing his shoulders. Lastly, a rubber grip burst from tiny perforations in the steering wheel, giving Stark himself more control over the vehicle.

"Interior adjustments complete. Beginning engine refinements."

As a series of grumblings and moans echoed throughout his car, Tony Stark twisted the car onto a main avenue, with the van hot on his tail.

"Hogan, I'm heading for the bridge, hopefully I can get to some highway and purely outrun them."

"I hear you. I'll set my car to follow."

Now that he had a car following him as well, Tony Stark was somewhat more nervous than he had been previously. Before, he was dealing with a speedy escape from a single driver. Now he was actually fleeing for his life.

"Engine refinements complete." The car uttered, as Stark blew through a red light. "Please tap each of the four rings in the center of the steering wheel to implement."

The Audi logo was glowing brightly before Stark ran his index finger across them.

"Implementation confirmed. Now activating."

Stark's Audi lurched forward as it raised into a higher gear.

"Decreasing vehicle elevation."

The car's body extended slightly, and fell lower to the ground.

"Decreasing wind resistance."

In a split second, Stark's spoiler raised slightly higher, and a fin deployed from the front grate of his car.

As the car continued improving itself, getting better gas flow, increasing turbo performance, and other tasks, Stark bounced up and down as he pulled onto an enormous bridge, connecting the island of Manhattan to the mainland of the United States.

WEE-OOO! WEE-OOO! WEE-OOO!

Sirens flared as he carelessly drove through the toll lane, with the fan close behind him.

"Aw... s**t!" He growled out of frustration.

"Updates complete. Now activating HUD."

As the police pulled alongside the van, edging closer to Stark every second, his line of sight illuminated, displaying his speed, currently 117 miles per hour, and the distance until the end of the bridge.

Without warning, the van slammed into the police cruiser, sending it careening through the guardrail and into the chilly water. For the most part, the road was empty. In the distance, a set of yellow lights blinked, their purpose completely lost on Stark.

"The outbound lane of this road is closed for the next two and one half miles."

Stark's eyes widened from within the car as the map displayed on his HUD flashed rapidly, signaling for him to park the car and wait for traffic to stop on the other side of the road.

"No can do..." Stark muttered, jerking the steering wheel to the left, sending the car head-on into a lane of incoming traffic.

With determination, he pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor, and the engine roared with enthusiasm.

Horns honked, cars swerved, and Tony Stark quickly made his way past the area of construction on his side of the road.

As he took his place back on the right hand lane, he glanced in his rear-view mirror.

No van.

Stark smirked smugly to himself as he let the car slow down.

As he approached the speed limit, he gave himself a final glance in his rear view mirror. The van was bouncing over the dirt-laden construction zone, refusing to end its pursuit of him.

Pushing the gas to the floor again, Stark's car heaved forward.

The van, going about 20 miles per hour faster than Stark's Audi, was soon within thirty feet of him, barely inching backwards.

A man in a black ski-mask leaned out of the window, a large rifle in his hand.

"Dammit..." Tony Stark whispered as the terrorist took aim at one of his back tires.

BLAM!

The rubber at the back of Stark's car was no match for the hollow point shot fired from the firearm. At such a high speed, and with so much power going to the engine, Stark promptly lost control of the vehicle, and the steering wheel spun out of his grip, burning his palms. The car's rear-end caught up to the front, and it skidded along for a split second. Unable to remain on the ground, the car rolled several times, spinning around. Glass shattered, the steel crumbled, and the car that Anthony Stark had felt so comfortable in before now seemed to be a prison.

"Activity monitors indicate that your vehicle has been in a collision. Please standby, emergency services are on their way."

Stark begrudgingly rolled his eyes, and tasted blood. He soon came to regret his experimental removal of the front airbag for the technological components of his car.

The vehicle came to a slow halt in the center of the road, smoke still pouring from the undercarriage and chassis.

Stark unbuckled his seatbelt, and slid slowly onto the underside of the roof of his car. Glancing out of the upside-down rear window, Stark saw the terrorist van slowing down, eventually coming to a stop behind him.

Not wanting to put any weight on his sore forearm, Stark kicked his door open and heaved himself onto the pavement.

The terrorist with the rifle stepped quietly out of the van, as Stark pulled himself to his feet, winded.

The driver, too, stepped out. Only, his face was one that was familiar to him.

"F**k, Feng... if you just told me it was you I woulda stopped." Stark said, hoping that his body guard would extend his hand in peace.

Instead, Feng Chi silently withdrew his pistol and took aim at his employer.

"Wait! Waitwaitwait!!" Stark said, futilely putting up his hands in protest, as a few more men stepped out of the rear part of the van.

BANG!

A bullet ripped through Stark's dress pants, sending him to one knee. He moaned in agony as Feng wrapped his hand around his collar.

"Come, Mr. Stark." The mutineer said. "My true employer wants to speak with you."

"You stupid son of a *****... I'm not going anywhere with you."

Stark rooted his good leg to the ground, trying to shut out the excruciating pain of his wound.

"Fair enough." Chi muttered.

He carelessly cast Anthony Stark into the side of his car, winding the billionaire.

Once he was twenty paces away, Chi withdrew his sidearm once more.

BANG!

Another bullet tore through Stark's remaining knee, and he collapsed under the strain, tears and blood streaming down his face.

Chi muttered, nodding his head to two men, then Stark.

They nodded, and picked him up, carrying him to the back of the van.

"You're coming with us now, aren't you Mr. Stark?" Chi whispered, his tone bitterly sarcastic.
​

 

[Rain Dog]

DOOM​

"Sir?"

"Speak," I say to the rebel soldier. General Vargo had moved his armies into Szoke and has been helping restore order. The remnants of Fortunov’s forces in the city have been hunted down and exterminated like the vermin they are. I have been using Szoke’s now vermin-free police headquarters as a base of operations. Vargo’s soldiers were the new temporary police force -- men and women who actually understood justice.

"We’ve gotten reports of rebellion in Labaton and Veji. Citizens have begun attacking the military and police and burning down government buildings."

"Excellent."

Word of my astonishing victory in Szoke has spread throughout the country. Many other cities have followed my example and begun rebellions of there own. And now, two more had joined my cause. Avia, my next destination, has had rioting of its own. This should make its capturing a bit simpler. Of course, with my mind at the helm of the rebel army, capturing any city would be simple.

"What of Vargo and the troops I requested?"

"General Vargo is ready, sir. Shall I take you to him?"

I nod and the soldier escorts me out of the building. I notice a look of uneasiness about him, most likely due to my rather imposing appearance. I have yet to be seen outside of my armor by the public and I have no intention of doing so. I’d rather they stare into the iron grimace that is my mask than my grotesque, disfigured face. I myself cannot bear to look upon it. Whenever I have the misfortune of coming across a mirror, I’m filled with grief and hate. I begin to remember the "accident." I begin to remember
Richards....

All that must be put behind me. For now. There are more important things at hand. I finally arrive at Vargo’s location. There, several armed troops and armored transports are awaiting me.

"Greetings, Doom. The soldiers and transports are all ready, if we leave now we should arrive in Avia at dawn."

"Very good. "

The troops entered their transports as I entered mine. Inside sat two soldiers, one a slender dark haired woman and the other, a muscular, auburn-haired man. Vargo climbed into the vehicle. The two soldiers saluted him. He gave them a nod and they lowered their arms.

"Here’s two of our best soldiers and big fans of yours," Vargo said with a smile as he sat beside me, "Lieutenant Lucia von Bardas and Lieutenant Bram Velsing."

 

[Piles]

episode one l birth of hulk​

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I open my eyes. There’s nothing around. A white wall lies directly in front of me, blurred thanks to the unstable state of my eyes. Slowly but surely, we come into focus. And hey presto, the wall’s still white, and only the cracks between the breeze blocks become a little more defined. I try to move my head. I can’t. Only the sad, bitter, repetitive sound of the machines to the right make the room something more than a slightly-furnished magnolia prison cell.

I manage to flicker my eyes. The window lies somewhere to the right, curtains drawn and starlight creeping in through the crack. The door somewhere to the left, closed securely to keep an unconscious man imprisoned. I still can’t move.

I remember the blast, vaguely. What was the kid doing walking along the test zone? I’d saved a boy that I didn’t even know and risked my own life. How heroic of me. I still… can’t… move… He strained his neck. Frustration. Attempts to recall the blast in particular are in vain. I just remember a secondary noise before my ears went dead. I cowered in fear as the noise washed over me, and then the mad rush of the gamma rays as they passed over my floored body. It’s a strange, rich euphoria that I can’t begin to explain.

I don’t understand why most of my senses are in tact. Vision. Hearing. Smell. But I still can’t move… the frustration begin to brim. My heart began to race and I heard the heart-monitor pick up in pace and tone. The blips became closer and closer together, until they moulded into one solitary scream. My body began to revolt against me. My skin seemed to rip… my internals wrenched themselves together, until all of the pain seemed to cancel itself out. It felt almost poetic, and I simply closed my eyes to embrace it.

And it stopped, and my heartbeat went through the roof. And I could move. Boy could I move. I moved off the bed, positioning myself in front of the mirror. I could hear my own breath over the machine now, heavy and husky. And then I noticed… I was out of the bed but my clothes were behind me. And I was… green.

I turned around, moving towards the door. I attempted to twist the door knob, but my fingers were hardly brimming with dexterity. Instead, I tugged. Not hard, more out of frustration than anything, and the door flew off its hinges. I ran out of the open frame, turning to my left and charging towards the wall. I lowered my shoulder, colliding with the wall. The bricks yielded to me, and I was out in the night. My muscular physique seemed to shield me from the cold, and I ran for my life. The last thing I remembered was turning back just in earshot of the nurses leaning out of the me-shaped hole in the wall.

“What the hell is that?!”

“It’s some sort of… hulk!”

Hulk.

 

[Obi-John-Kenobi]

IC: Peter Parker/Spider-Man


Crusher Hogan body-slammed his fifth opponent of the night, pinned him, and had him down for the count. The Crusher wasn't even breaking a sweat.

"The winner..." the announcer called to the mixture of cheers and jeers from the audience.

"Crrrusheeeerrrrr Hoooogaaaann!!"

Crusher ripped the mic from the announcer's hand.

"Is this ALL?! Is there NO ONE else?!"

Suddenly, a figure wearing a white shirt, blue jeans, and a ski mask leaped onto the stage resting in a crouching position. He wore bug-eyed goggles and it made him look sort of like some kind of insect.

"If you're hankerin' for a can of a$$ whoopin' THAT bad..." the masked man replied and he lifted his fist.

"I've got an opener right here."

Crusher laughed at the scrawny new-comer.

"Are ya KIDDIN' me?!! You ain't worth my time, shrimp. Crawl back to the gym for awhile, then we'll talk-"

Suddenly, the masked man leaped up and kicked Crusher in the chest. Then, he backflipped onto the ropes, bouncing off of them, and landed a series of blows that kept Hogan in the air.

GAAHH! WHAT THE-?!"

The masked marvel unleashed a powerful kick that sent Crusher Hogan flying into the crowd. Fortunately, no one was hurt (save for Hogan) and the crowd went wild.

"There's a souvenir you WON'T find at the gift shop, folks!" and the masked figure motioned to the unconcious wrestler.

The ring announcer headed for the masked man (who was now perched atop a flag-pole several feet above ground).

"Who are you, masked stranger?! Reveal yourself to the crowd!"

But Peter Parker kept his mask right where it was.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"So, Linda, you hear any update on what happened to Mr. Stark", said one of the nurses as they checked in on Max.
"Nothing far as I know", replied Linda.

"Shame", frowned the nurse, "he was a sexy bastard."

Linda chuckled and shook her head.
"Did I tell you about the time I met him?"

The other nurse cast a dubious gaze on her colleague.
"You, Linda Carter, met Anthony Stark?"

"I did", replied Linda.
"C'mon", said Linda as they finished their checkup on Max and headed towards the door, "let's get a coffee and I'll tell you all about it."

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

Max took another swig off of his beer, wiping the froth from mouth with the back of his free hand.

"You okay, Max", asked the bartender.

"I'm fine", replied Dillon, though it took him a few seconds to respond.

"Give me a whiskey sour", Max said as he downed the rest of his beer, and the bartender went off to mix his drink.

Max sighed and stared blankly at the bar.
It had been just a month ago when he was handed the divorce papers. After eight years of marriage, it was officially over. Laura no longer wanted to be with him, and she was getting custody of Jay.

And despite his gut telling him not to, Max found himself drowning his frustrations and sorrow in pint glasses and shots of whiskey every night after work.
And even they no longer seemed to be helping dull the pain of his broken heart.

"Hey Max."

Max turned to see a skinny, balding man take up the bar stool next to him.

"What's up, Dyre?"

"Not a whole lot. How ya holdin' up?"

"I'm doin' fine", replied Max as he grabbed his recently arrived whiskey sour and took a large pull from it.

"Yeah, sure ya are", laughed Dyre.
"It's cool, Max. Everyone has their own way of dealin' with the **** life throws at us."
"Every day though I see ya drinkin' more an' more", said Dyre as he order a shot of tequila.
"So I'm guessin' the booze ain't cuttin' it no more."

Max didn't reply. He just finished his drink in one giant gulp and put the empty glass back on the bar, signaling the bartender for another.

"Here", said Dyre as he reached out his hand to Max under the bar.

"What the hell is this", asked Max as he took the small bag from Dyre.

"Somethin' to help the pain", replied Dyre.

Max looked at the contents of the small bag. Pills. Little blue bars with the letters "OC".

"I appreciate it, Dyre", Max said as he handed the bag back to Dyre under the bar, "but I'm not a druggie."

"Relax, Dillon", smiled Dyre as he pushed Max's hand holding the bag back towards him, "ain't got nothin' to worry about. You ain't gonna be an addict. These things will help ya."

Max looked down at the bag of pills in his hand. There was no denying that the alcohol wasn't helping any more, but pills? Was this the road that Max wanted to go down?

Max sat there pondering the whole seen as best as a drunk man could. Finally, Max opened the bag and took out a pill. In one quick motion, Max put the pill in his mouth and swallowed it down with his drink...

 

[Electro UK]

"number two, never let 'em know your next move
dontchu know bad boys move in silence and violence?
take it from your highness
i dun squeezed mad clips at these cats for they brick and chips" - Biggie Smalls, "10 Crack Commandments"

UPTOWN MANHATTAN
1:00 AM

It was getting late, but Wilson Fisk still had one more matter of business to attend to, a very important one at that. The black Mercedes-Benz he currently occupied pulled up to one of the many immense skyscrapers of downtown and stopped. Stepping out of the car, The Kingpin took a second to soak in just how different this side of town was from his.

He had never felt completely comfortable down here. Down here, it was high society... investment bankers, lawyers, businessmen. And while Wilson Fisk had more money than the richest of the rich down here, he never considered himself one of them. He was a stick-up kid from Brooklyn, a hoodlum. He didn't fit in rubbing shoulders with the white collar, power suit crowd of Wall Street. They disgusted him... they couldn't last 10 seconds in his world, yet they walked around with an air of superiority. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact he was certain there was at least 2 sets of FBI eyes on him at that very moment, he might be liable to crack some skulls.

That, was something that made the Kingpin very comfortable.

Followed closely by his entourage, Wilson made his way into the lobby of the building and then towards the elevator. The 37th floor here belonged to Fisk Real Estate Holdings, one of the Kingpin's many companies he used as fronts for his illegal operations They allowed him to appear legitimate to the IRS and the US government, and also facilitated most of his money laundering. After a short ride, the elevator gave off the ceremonial *ding!* and the Kingpin and his men filed out.

Fisk lit a cigar, clenching it in his teeth and folding his arms across his chest. He stared out the windows of his corner office on the city skyline. Not too far off, he could see the ominous Stark Tower, looming over the bustling metropolis. Wilson could respect a man like Tony Stark. While their methods greatly differed, in the end Tony was a hustler, just like the Kingpin. Day in and day out, it was all about one thing for men like Fisk & Stark.

Profit.

"Well?" the Kingpin growled to one of his cronies that stood in the doorway.

"They should be here any minute boss."

Wilson silently nodded. The very important business at hand here: a meeting with the Taskmaster. He had dealt with many hired guns over his career, especially in this day and age, what with all these superpowered freaks running around, and the Taskmaster had always proved to be highly efficient in the business of extermination. And this time, the Kingpin needed someone extremely good at what they did, because this problem came with red leather, horns, and was extremely hard to kill...

OOC: I'll do this post so you can edit Kang, Taskmaster hasn't been hired by Kingpin before, he's only really just getting into the world of organized crime. All he's essentially done at the moment is stop the police from capturing some of Fisk's goons at the docks etc.

IC: With a guy like The Kingpin of crime, you need to make an entrance, which is why I've been pretty obediant to his lackies that came to pick me up. I'm letting them relax a little, get off guard during the car ride. When we pull up near the sky scraper, I know I'm hitting the big time. I'm shoved inside, the receptionist giving me a dirty look from the scruffy clothes.

The barrel of a pistol digs into the back of my head and shoves me into a lift. "Alright, jeez, relax a little." I say, staggering inside. As the lift's door closes, and we begin to go up, I get to work.

***

The Kingpin looks generally surprised to see me as I walk out, now holding the gun to the guard's head. How's that for an entrance? "Mr. Kingpin, I gotta say, you could ask the guards to be a little more hospitable to potential employees."

 

[kang604]

IC: With a guy like The Kingpin of crime, you need to make an entrance, which is why I've been pretty obediant to his lackies that came to pick me up. I'm letting them relax a little, get off guard during the car ride. When we pull up near the sky scraper, I know I'm hitting the big time. I'm shoved inside, the receptionist giving me a dirty look from the scruffy clothes.

The barrel of a pistol digs into the back of my head and shoves me into a lift. "Alright, jeez, relax a little." I say, staggering inside. As the lift's door closes, and we begin to go up, I get to work.

***

The Kingpin looks generally surprised to see me as I walk out, now holding the gun to the guard's head. How's that for an entrance? "Mr. Kingpin, I gotta say, you could ask the guards to be a little more hospitable to potential employees."

"I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips
n*igga im from new york
i got a semi-automatic that spits next time that you talk" - Ja Rule, New York

The Kingpin, quite frankly, was not amused. The Taskmaster was attempting to make an impression on Wilson, but this impression was not good. Still, he could ill afford to have a shootout in his own office. The feds would surely jump all over that.

Fisk sat down in his chair, squashing the butt of his cigar into the ashtray on his desk. Folding his hands across his stomach and leaning back, Wilson grinned slyly. "Impressive. But I must say, your reputation preceeds you. There is no need for theatrics. I have brought you here because I am need of your... services. "

Wilson took a seconds pause, to see if the Taskmaster would respond. Nope. He continued to firmly hold the gun against his guards head, ready to pull the trigger at a seconds notice. Fisk nodded. The Taskmaster was definitely the man for the job.

On his desk was a small glass with 3 fingers of Glenlivet, of which Wilson took a small sip. He motioned to the man with the gun, "Drink?" The Taskmaster shook his head sternly. Fisk shrugged.

"I'll be frank, as time is short," Wilson said. "Over my years in this city, I have acquired a certain reputation. This reputation has, unfortunately, caught the attention and scrutiny of many law enforcement authorities, both municipal and federal. However, recently, my activities and reputation have caught the attention of another so-called authority, who has grown to become an increasingly large thorn in my side."

Wilson scowled, his voice dropping to a growl, allowing the menace in his tone and his heart to be heard. "Daredevil. Take out Daredevil and I promise you, this will be the first of many very, very lucrative assignments for you."

 

[Rain Dog]

DOOM
​

Avia was now only a short distance away. The city was small in comparison to Szoke and Haasenstadt but it was a pivotal city nonetheless. By taking Avia, a clear route to the capital would be provided. The city also contained a major munitions factory. Capturing it would greatly decrease the flow of arms and supplies to the Latverian Army.

"I have been fighting with the rebels for years," Lucia said, "And I must admit, I was not always certain I’d live to see the day we were finally free. But thanks to you, that day will arrive sooner than anyone had ever imagined!"

Over the course of our trip to Avia, Von Bardas and Velsing have been telling me tales of past battles, their reasons for joining the rebels, and their ideas for a new Latveria. They have been praising my great accomplishments and though, deserving of praise they are, I had no idea they had such an impact on these soldiers. Velsing has been very curious about my armor and weapons. I explained to him what they were, how they worked, and how I went about constructing them. I was very surprised and pleased to see that he actually understood most of it and realized what ingenuity it took to create such marvelous technology.

"Brilliant...absolutely brilliant," he said, "this technology is years beyond anything that exists now! And you built this all for the sole purpose of liberating your homeland?"

"No. Initially I had other...applications in mind."

"What do you mean?" inquired Von Bardas.

"In truth...I had originally conceived this armor as a tool for carrying out a vendetta," I said sullenly. I am a man of honesty and as such, I decided I shall no longer continue to hide from the truth. A look of confusion and shock overtook the faces of the two soldiers, as well as General Vargo’s.

"I don’t understand..."

"In America there was a man...a fellow scientist named Reed Richards. I had been working on a revolutionary device in secret. And Brilliant though this man was, he had longed envied me and when he came upon my invention, he could bear his jealousy no longer. He sabotaged it– he tried to kill me! I was the only one more intelligent than him and it drove him mad! The machine exploded, injuring me and several other innocent people that the fool had not accounted for!"

I pause for a minute to recollect myself. I have not felt such anger in so long...

"...Or perhaps he had and merely did not care. So–after his assassination plot had failed, he went on spreading lies. He could not kill me so he defamed me–telling everyone that it was my fault, thatIwas the reason the machine exploded, thathe had warned me and tried to help. The people sided with him– because he was a fellow American, no doubt– and I became the epitome failure in their eyes."

"So...you designed this armor to kill him?" Vargo questioned. There was a sense of disappointment in his voice. Lucia and Bram, on the other hand, seemed captivated by my story. It looked as if they too were feeling my pain and beginning to harbor my hatred.

"I did," I replied, "I had almost let my hatred consume me. But after traveling the world I realized that there are far more important problems in this world. I saw how my intellect–my gift–would be wasted on my personal dilemmas when it could be used to help people across the globe–starting with my homeland. With my people."

The transport came to a stop. We were there. The four of us rose. Vargo immediately climbed out of the vehicle. As I was about to follow, Lucia spoke.

"You are a very noble man, Victor."

"I will be honored to fight alongside you!" added Velsing.

I nod and exit the vehicle. The soldiers began to get into their formations.

"The riots have State Security preoccupied. They won’t be prepared. We should have the city’s western district secured by sunrise," Vargo said.

"Very good."

I turn to Lucia and Bram as they climb out of the transport.

"Lieutenant Bardas! Lieutenant Velsing! Assemble your teams. We’re striking the munitions factory immediately."

 

[Eddie Brock]

The Baxter is burning.

I can smell the smoke, hear the flames crackling. Though I try to move, I've been completely immobilized. I open my eyes to survey my surroundings, but I have such severe tunnel vision that everything looks like a blur. Just beyond my field of vision, I can see the moving orange colors of the fire. My heart is pounding so loudly that the crackling sounds so distant. In reality, I am lying on the sidewalk only a few yards from the Baxter Building.

I open my mouth to make a noise, but I find that speech has eluded me as well. A dry croak is all that my throat can muster, and it's barely louder than a pin drop. As I breathe in, I feel intense discomfort in my ribcage. I'm almost certain that I broke something - or, at the very least, sprained it.

All the while, I find myself asking, how did I get here?

Like all bad things that happen, Reed Richards is at the source.


Ten Minutes Ago

I walk into the Baxter to see my bodyguard, Ben, napping on a chair by the elevator doors. I look around to see if anyone else is near, but the coast is clear. I carefully tiptoe towards Ben and get as close as I can. He's snoring loudly. With a gleeful smile, I lean in until my lips are nearly pressed against his ear.

"BEN, HELP!" I shout. Ben jumps up in his chair and stands alert. He looks around and sees only the abandoned foyer of the Baxter and myself with a satisfied grin.

Ben grimaces while turning red. "One of these days, kid. . ."

Before Ben can complete his threat, the power in the Baxter Building unexpectedly goes out. A moment later, it returns. Ben and I merely stare at each other before getting into the elevator. We press the button for the top floor and the elevator begins to ascend. I find myself praying that the power doesn't go out again.

With a 'ding,' the elevator reaches the top floor. Ben and I step out and enter the main hallway, headed for the lab. My sister, Sue, opens her bedroom door and steps out to greet us.

"What's going on?" she asks drowsily. Looks like everyone was taking a nice late afternoon nap.

"That's what we're trying to find out," I explain.

The three of us continue down the hallway until we find the door to the lab. We swing it open to see a strange machine, but no sign of the scientist working on it.

"Reed?" Sue calls out cautiously.

Suddenly, a head pops up from behind the machine. The man is wearing goggles that nearly cover his entire face. When he sees us approaching, he removes the goggles. The man is Reed Richards, my sister's boyfriend. Oh, and he's also kind of the smartest guy of our generation.

"Look, about that little blackout," Reed begins before we can even ask, "I'm just working out a few kinks in this invention."

"What is it?" Ben inquires, asking the question on all of our minds. We all eye the machine apprehensively. Reed's inventions tend to have disastrous results.

Reed scratches the back of his head. "It's a little complicated. Give me a few more minutes to get it ready, and I'll show you what it does," he promises. Typical Reed - once he starts working on something, he doesn't have time to stop. Sue motions for us to go, and we all willingly oblige. Sometimes, it's best not to ask questions of Reed.

Once we're out of earshot, I finally ask, "What do you see in him, Sis? I mean, I know he's super-smart and everything..."

"It's more than that."

"I'll take your word for it," I begin, "But sometimes I just wonder--"

Right in the middle of my observation, there is a large explosion from the lab. By the time that it registers with my mind, the shockwave has already catapulted me out of the building. As I'm falling, I look up at the Baxter Building. The top five stories are completely obliterated.

The Baxter is burning.

 

[Eddie Brock]

"The Baxter Building - home to renowned scientist Reed Richards and teen sensation Johnny Storm - was destroyed today in a freak explosion. Police are still investigating the cause of the explosion, but it is believed to be a result of one of Reed Richard's experiments. However, they still have not ruled out the possibility of sabotage from competitor scientists. Reed, Johnny, Johnny's sister Susan, and Johnny's bodyguard Ben were the only people present in the building at the time of the explosion. All four were rushed to a nearby Midtown hospital to be treated for the injuries. No word has been received yet of their condition."

I turn off the television in my hospital room. I don't mind making headlines, but I hoped I wouldn't do it like this. Boy, did you get a look at that reporter?

"Knock, knock?"

I turn to see Reed and Sue standing in the doorway. I motion for them to come in.

"How are you feeling?" Sue asks in the typical older sister caring tone. It's scary how much she sounds like Mom when she does that.

"I've been worse," I admit. In fact, I feel great for someone who survived an explosion. Maybe I feel too good. "Next time, I want a stunt double for this kind of stuff."

Reed puts his hands in his pockets. "I hope there won't be a next time," Reed states honestly. He sits down in one of the chairs next to my bed. "I don't know how I let that get away from me."

"I'm more concerned with how I survived an explosion without a single scratch," I reply.

Reed and Sue look at each other.

"Yes, well, I'm still working on that, too," Reed admits.

Sue puts a hand on my shoulder. "Johnny, maybe it's better not to ask questions about it right now. Just be happy that we're as good as new."

I suddenly realize that someone is missing. "Where's Ben?" I ask.

"Well, he's not exactly good as new," Reed responds cryptically.

Oh my God, don't tell me that he's--

"He's alive," Sue assures me as if she can read my mind. "But there's been a...complication."

"What kind of complication?"

 

[Brotha-Man]

The night was rainy, but active and Willis had a meeting to get to. He thought to himself as he rode the subway, Hmm, what could this be about? I want to kill Carl, but there is this ircking feeling in my gut. Man, damn! I gotta get my crap together. When this subway stops this feeling has to stop. I can't have this on my way there.

As Willis sat on the cart, he never noticed another man from Carl's past sat in the seat near him. A man people called Big Brother. And though Willis was in too deep a thought to notice, Big Brother recognized him off the bat. Both sat in the cart silently thinking.

 

[Eddie Brock]

I follow Reed and Sue anxiously down the hallway. They have been very quiet about what's happened to Ben, and I don't want to press any further. However, I want to know before I see him.

"This doesn't look like any regular hospital," I state aloud to myself as I survey my surroundings. I'm hoping that a change is subject is just what I need.

"Dad airlifted us here when Ben's condition worsened," Sue explains. There it is again - Ben's condition.

I clear my throat and ask, "What happened to the big guy?"

Reed lowers his head before beginning to speak, "The device I was working on was a microwave emitter designed to amplify elemental properties of...well...anything."

"You lost me already."

"The machine would emit microwave energy to, say, increase water supply. Y'know, things of that nature," he replies. "I was in the middle of calibrating it when it exploded."

"Yeah, I remember that part vividly," I state dryly.

Reed sighs. "The thing is, Johnny, we were exposed to dangerous microwave energy in that explosion," he explains. "So far, the three of us don't seem to have experienced any negative effects...but Ben's DNA may have been permanently altered."

Reed and Sue come to a halt at a door. Sue stands in front of the window so that I can't see until Reed is done speaking.

"We've tried to keep him sedated, but we can't find a needle that works. The shock is a little hard to swallow, so brace yourself."

Sue moves away from the window, and I press my face to it apprehensively. As I peer in, a see a huge orange mass lying in the customized hospital bed.

"Holy crap," I gasp.

Sue nods understandingly. "We're worried about how Ben is going to take it...that's why we wanted to keep him sedated until we could figure this out."

"But his skin has been mutated into a rock-like substance."

"What now?" I ask hesitantly.

"On top of looking for a cure, I'm also going to run tests on the three of us," Reed explains. "We may not be displaying any symptoms, but that doesn't mean that we haven't been affected."

 

[The Manly Torch]

Before the Storm, Pt. 1​

"Blue, forty-two! Hut... hut... hut.. HIKE!"

The quarterback shuffled back, faked a pass, and tossed the ball to his running back, Wilson. Ben knocked out the man he was blocking and momentarily looked back to see the running back recieve the ball. He snorted and shoulder-slammed another defensive back to the ground. He looked to the ball-carrier again. This time, one of the men covering the recievers was charging at Wilson. Ben laid out another opponent and rushed to protect Wilson, but he could tell he wasn't going to get there soon enough.

Wilson tried to juke, but he wasn't fast enough. As he was beginning to fall, he managed to reach his arm back and toss the ball in the air. Ben could see it was up to him to get there to catch the football. He pumped his feet faster, reaching his hands out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone also reaching for the ball. The enemy was trying to intercept.

"Not on my shift, pal!" he bellowed as he shoved him aside.

Ben clenched the pigskin in his large palms and tucked it in, covering it with his burly arms. With mission accepted, Ben surged forth with resolution. Two tried to tackle him, but he dodged one and put the other down with a palm to the back of the helmet. Finally, someone managed to wrap their arms around his ankles and bring him facedown in the grass, but not before he had gained a terrific 53 yards, just 14 yards short of the goal line.

The Empire State Soldiers had stomped the New York Nomads 36-3. The "Grimm Reaper" was praised for having one of the gamemaking plays seen by the thousands in the stands and two news cameras from Fox Sports Network and CBS College Sports Televison. One excited reporter from the local news lavished Ben with praise and asked him a few questions, which Ben was glad to answer, even though he was hot and sweaty and tired.

In the locker room and in the showers, men clapped Ben on the back and he reciprocated their encouragement with his own, telling them how well they did. Ben felt good. This was truly a team.

"Way to go, Grimm Reaper! Not bad for your first college year."


"Heyyy, Johnny, what're ya doin' here?! I thought you had one of them model shoots ta get to?"

"Yeah, we actually got done early for once."


The two left the stadium in Johnny's car (Ben had run there; he was always finding time to train). They pulled up to Ben's favorite bar and grill. He smiled as he got out of the car. This was his favorite joint, and he knew how happy everyone inside would be to see him. He was right.

"Wow, Ben, you're famous. Almost as famous as I am."


"Git over yerself, kid. You've only had some paparazzi, you're no Tom Cruise."


"Yet!"


"Alright, alright. You might turn inta some celebrity. But you better not let any of it get to yer head. When you start shavin' yer head and goin' ta rehab every month, I'm outta here."

 

[Brotha-Man]

The subway train stopped and Willis found himself getting without thinking about it. He was so deep in thought that he never noticed Big Brother following him. Carl, you don't leave much of a choice. If I'm to get my self respect back I gotta take you down, and that's all there is to it. I can't let past crap get in my way. I mean who's to say as soon as you see me you won't kill me. If this plays out nicely I won't even have to.... Who the hell?! Damn, I was thinkin so bad I didn't notice that I had got off the train, or that this chump was following me.

Willis duck around a near by alley, and got ready to stick who ever it was following him. The foot steps came closer and closer, and as soon as Willis could make out a coat and dark figure he lugged forward with knife. Big Brother looked down at the knife pertruding from his computer suit. Willis didn't take any time he took out another blade and prepared finish off his enemy. Big Brother sighed and slammed both of his huge hands on Willis's ears and head. Willis's knife fell from its master's hand, and after the alley spun in his eyes, Willis blacked out.

Big Brother hicked Willis over his shoulder and smirked, "Made that little more inconvenient then it needed to be. But alas, Diamondback, we will still have our talk, just not at this moment."

The tall coat wearing figure walked off slowly into the night of the alley way with a another figure slumped over his shoulder. And as the alley way's darkness absorbed them, the city seemed to be in a state of silence.

 

[Matt Murdock]

IC: Tony Stark / Iron Man

"Destiny is no matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for...
It is a thing to be achieved."

- William Jennings Bryan, American Politician and Orator

When Anthony Stark woke up, he didn't know where he was. His chest was bare, and he found himself in nothing more than a pair of athletic shorts. He didn't know how much time had passed since Feng Chi's betrayal, and he couldn't be sure of his surroundings. Light shone into the room he was being held in from a window ten feet above his head, proving to Stark that he had been asleep, or unconscious, since the shooting the night before. Every bone in his body ached and his knees, though the pain had dulled, were still in incredible agony. His hands were at his side, and he was laying on a poorly constructed cot. It was creaky, musty, and reeked of piss. He pulled a sore arm up to the back of his neck groggily and felt for his neural uplink.

Gone.

"Well looks like sleepin' beauty finally woke up." A thug out of Stark's gaze called out.

Out of fear of tearing or breaking something, Stark simply stared at the ceiling and listened to the voices around him.

The thug called to another man, still outside of Stark's gaze. That man barked orders back down to the thug. Some sort of firearm was slung over the thug's shoulder, Stark could hear it rattling around as the man paced back and forth, his boots echoing in the room Stark was being held in.

"You heard the man, doc. Take a look at him."

After a few feeble footsteps, a portly man was leaning over Tony Stark, quietly flashing a pen-light in his eyes. Unremarkable in appearance, the examiner had all the usual trappings of a doctor: stethoscope around the neck, white lab coat, and a tattered ID badge from a local, New York City hospital.

The flashed in Stark's eyes and for a moment, he hoped he was in heaven... he hoped to experience the sweet relief that death would bring.

"Pupils are responding fine..." The doctor grumbled.

He laid a hand on Tony Stark's throat.

"Pulse is... slow... but alright."

His mouth was dry, and when he tried to speak, all he could manage was a whisper.

"Please... help me." Stark whispered, terrified for the first time in a long while.

The doctor simply ignored him and continued to examine the industrialist.

The billionaire's heart seemed to be pulsing in his throat, and his eyes darted hastily about the ceiling.

"He's fine!" The doctor called from Stark's bedside.

Anthony coughed, trying not to breath in the stench that engulfed him as he lay on the bed.

Stark heard a few footsteps making their way down a staircase in the corner of the room.

"Sit him up." A thick, British accent said.

Stark felt a pair of hands on both of his shoulders, carelessly heaving him up into an upright position.

The accent belonged to a middle-aged Asian man who was dressed considerably better than his underlings.

"You're a hard man to track down Mr. Stark." He said, almost chuckling.

Stark's eyelids were drooping, and his head was heavy upon his neck. He as barely able to comprehend his surroundings, though it seemed he was in some sort of warehouse. A typical, dingy setting for criminality. Twenty men were stationed on the two floors of the main room of the warehouse, and Stark caught the eye of his old bodyguard, Feng Chi.

The elderly man cast a gloved hand in Chi's direction and arched an eyebrow.

"Our mutual associate tells me that you put up quite a chase when he tried to get a hold of you." The man had a smugness about him that Stark had never encountered, even as he lookd in his own mirror. "Let me just say...."

"I can't tell you how pleased I am that you joined us."

The doctor stood idly by as the newcomer spoke.

Stark began a reply, words barely making it out of his mouth.

"W...who are you?" Stark asked quietly.

The man removed his gloves quietly and one of his cronies handed a handgun to him.

"My name is unimportant, really. I was, once, a business man, looking to invest in one of your goods."

His tone took a snide turn.

"You have, however, somewhat limited our possible business transactions in that I have had to kidnap you."

A door at the rear of the ware house opened, about twenty feet behind the Chinese man.

He walked quietly over to Stark and held the gun beneath his face.

"Do you recognize this, Anthony? It's a gun manufactured by your factory."

Stark grunted, trying to act as unafraid as he could.

"I... I didn't know we were on a first name basis..." He said.

The Asian laughed heartily as he stepped away from the billionaire.

"Ah, Mr. Stark! I had heard you were funny... but I didn't know you took kidnapping lightly."

The man watched as three people were dragged into the warehouse from the rear entrance, blindfolded and gagged.

A woman, about forty, and two children, a boy and a girl.

"You seem to be so vain that you think you're my only captive." The Asian said arrogantly.

Stark, now fully awake glanced at the doctor, who had become visibly tense.

"My God..." He whispered.

"Now, Mr. Stark, I'm a business man. I don't mind it when negotiations take time. In fact, I'm used to that. I won't, however, be made a fool of. You've wasted my resources and my time."

He stepped behind the doctor's wife and children.

BLAM!

The boy collapsed on the ground, as blood and his brain matter slid across the cold concrete floor.

The doctor vomited, trying to contain himself.

"I offered you the chance to do business civilly with me, Anthony. But, have it your way."

"Stop." Stark commanded, as the Asian pressed the barrel of the gun to the little girl's head.

"No." He said, with a gleam in his eye. "Their blood will be on your hands."

"No..."

BLAM!

The bodies of the children slumped to the ground, blood pouring out of their shattered skulls.

Tony Stark's face was stoic and solid, as he glared at the smug murderer before him.

The man with the gun quietly removed his gloves as he smiled at the industrialist.

He muttered something to his goons and left the room as the doctor before Stark held the bodies of his children. The thugs made their way over to Tony Stark and heaved him to his feet, dragging him behind their boss.

The commander strode smugly through the warehouse, his captive dragged wearily behind him.

Stark's eyes were wide, darting about the steel corridor, as he tried to gauge his surroundings. Sparks flew, the sound of tearing iron echoed through the building, and the air was oppressively hot. To him, it felt like the world was melting, and he was caught in the middle.

"This is my ironworks, Mr. Stark. You're going to be working here for a while."

The man in front of him turned quietly and glared at Stark, as if the two were engaged in a staring contest that neither of them could afford to lose.

Stark spat a glob of blood onto the man's fine, Italian shoes.

"You can go to hell." He growled.

The leader chuckled and slammed his open palm on a large button on the wall.

Stark felt his mouth go dry out of terror, as a large, steel bulkhead slid open. The walls were shaking, and the lightbulbs seemed to flicker in fear of what lay beyond the doorway.

Liquid steel was flowing through a series of heating coils, pouring in and out of a large, central vat.

"This is going to be your workspace, Stark."

Stark was rigid.

"What do you want?" He asked angrily.

"You're going to build me a bomb." His captor said, casually.

"Fine. I'll build a bomb for you. But do you think you're going to get it into the city? You can't just drive into a city anymore with a van full of explosives."

The man before him nodded.

"You fail to realize just how prepared for this eventuality I am, Anthony. I have a person from every aspect of your dear city's governmental hierarchy."

Stark felt himself sigh helplessly.

"I can get special access passes to every building on every street of New York. I can get direct plane flights from one corner of the globe to another."

The man leaned down and glared at Stark.

"I have more power and influence than you can dream of."

Stark stared into the man's eyes. They were dank... cold... much like Stark's own. They didn't care about the cost of a decision or the repercussions of an action. He was thoughtless, hardened, and industrialized.

"You've got so much influence?" Stark said, angrily. "Build your own damn bomb."

"I don't want to build a bomb. I want you to."

Stark closed his eyes solemnly. He was going toe-to-toe with himself, and he couldn't win.

"F**k you." He muttered.

The man drew his gun from his jacket quietly.

"Kill me if you want." Tony Stark said, looking down the barrel of the handgun.

For the first time, he wasn't terrified, he wasn't scared, and he wasn't arrogant.

He was just Tony Stark, and he found comfort in the fact that he wasn't going to cower or cave in just because someone held a gun to his chest.

The barrel of the gun was cold as the Asian pressed it into his chest, and Stark simply glared at him.

"If you're going to kill me..." He said,"You're going to look me in my eyes as you d--"

BANG!​

 

[The Manly Torch]

(OOC: This'll end my flashbacks... for now... and lead into Ben's current situation. You can tell the difference between human Ben and the Thing by the slight increase in size of the font.)​

Before the Storm, Pt. 2​

It was raining. Ben lied still in his cot with eyes wide open, listening to the small pattering of drops in the night. The trickling soothed him. This, along with the darkness and the fact that none of the men could see his silent tears, helped ease the pain. Ben thought about all of the wonderful dates he and his girlfriend had. That time he threw up on the roller coaster and grossed her out, the time they watched that scary movie and she buried her face in his shoulder, the time someone bumped into her and Ben chewed them out for not watching their step, the time they sat together on her front porch and watched the sunset, and the final time he saw her was when he boarded the airplane that would take him to Fort Sill in Oklahoma where he would receive his basics training until he received his orders to go to Iraq. They kissed long that time, and she promised she would wait for him.

Ben uncrumpled the paper in his hand and looked at it again. It was too dark to make out what the words said, but he already knew what they said. He’d memorized them at least thirty times.

Dear Benjamin Grimm,

I can’t find an easy way to say it. I know you’re far away and you’re bound to take it hard whether I beat around the bush or tell it to you straight. I appreciate all the letters you’ve been sending me and keeping me up to date on everything, but I have to ask you to stop. I don’t really feel like we were truly meant for each other, I think we were just two disillusioned ships passing in the night. I believe I’ve found the man to whom I truly belong. And I hope with all my heart that you find your one, true love. I believe that I’m not the one you deserve. You deserve to find the one who will truly make you happy. I’m sorry I had to tell you this way. I hope you leave Iraq alive.

Sincerely,
Hannah

“EVERYBODY OFF YOUR BACKS AND ON YER FEET!”

RATATATATATATATA! RATATATATATATA!

“WE’VE GOT COMPANY!”

All of the men were already in their pants and boots, scrambling with their shirts and their guns. Ben was dressed with gun loaded and cocked as he barreled out the doorway, his eye taking in everything within seconds.

His company had a large campsite close to the town of Aqra Jul. The town had left them well enough alone, but now it seemed as though the guerrillas living there decided it was their time to run out the army. There wasn’t much vegetation, so the only methods of hiding were the hills and their vehicles and their tenthouses. It didn’t rain much, but tonight it did, and all the sand was now mud. Perhaps that was why the Al-Qaeda or whoever was attacking them thought it would be a good time to attack. Idiots. Didn’t they realize that Americans trained in the mud?

Apparently one of the sentry spotted them and was now holding them back at his post, as were two others on the opposite side of the camp.

“GRIMM! To the north!”

Ben's feet obeyed nearly before the words left his mouth. He trudged speedily uphill and threw himself onto his stomach next to his comrades, who were shooting round after round. He peeked over the crest to get his bearings on the enemy’s location. There were a couple of them with M-16’s or M-4’s crouched behind a mound that barely protected them. The others were sheltered behind a hummer they had apparently commandeered from another company, when or where was anybody’s guess.

Ben turned on his back, readied his XM8 assault rifle, flipped back onto elbows, and showered bullets on his first target: the mound.

“We’ve wounded two of them already!” Vickers, the black man to his left shouted above the gunfire. “But, they got Graham! He was on duty when they attacked!”

Ben gritted his teeth and returned volley after volley. He saw one of his bullets nick a brave Iraqi in the knee. He ducked just as a bullet hit the mud, spraying it over his body. Ben noticed Vickers jolt back from his firing stance and grab his cheek.

“Medic!” Ben shouted immediately.

“I’m fine!” Vickers shouted, feeling his bleeding cheek tenderly. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Sam, that’s a movie line!”

“Exactly! This is real life and I’m telling the truth! In the movies, it's always a lie!”

Ben scoffed and poked his head into danger as he tried to direct his fire beneath the hummer, hoping at least one bullet would ricochet into someone’s foot. One of their bullets whizzed past his ear. He heard Cpl. O'Reilly screaming in agony. Ben clenched his grip tighter. He had to do something.

“Cover me!” Ben shouted as he lunged over the crest.

“Ben, don’t be a dumb***!”

Ben stopped as soon as he saw the Iraqi roll out holding a grenade launcher.

“RPG! RPG!”

Ben lunged back into the crowd of American troops.

“RPG! RPG!”

“GYAHHH!” Ben screamed as he jolted up.

It took him several moments to take in his surroundings. A fair-sized room with cream-colored walls, a pinewood cabinet with a TV set, a window, a stand, a white sheet… Ben was in the hospital.

“What the hell am I doin’ in a crummy hospital?”

Ben threw his legs over the side of the bed, his eyes affixed on his surroundings, not yet realizing what else was different. The bed groaned with the weight.

“Correction. A crummy hospital with lousy beds. This only means one thing... lousier food.”

 

[Eddie Brock]

The three of us enter Ben's room sheepishly as we see him stir. He sits up, but he doesn't notice the change in himself. I'm beginning to become afraid of how he'll react. After all, he could lash out at us. In the back of my mind, I just remind myself:

This is Reed's fault. If he kills anyone, it will be Reed.

Reed clears his throat to make our presence known. Ben looks up at us as if nothing is wrong. Reed and Sue are awkwardly silent, so I take charge.

"Hey, big guy, how you feeling?" I ask hesitantly with a forced smile.

 

[The Manly Torch]

Ben started when he saw Johnny, Reed, and Sue come in. He smirked. His memory came back quickly, and he recalled the explosion.

"Nice explosion there, Reed," Ben teased. "Thanks for landin' me in th' hospital."

Ben noticed the silence and unease Reed displayed, and realized all three of them were uneasy, even Johnny. Johnny managed to speak, but Ben could tell something was wrong. They had brought in a huge elephant in with them, and everyone was avoiding it. Well, Ben wasn't one for ignoring the big elephant in the room.

"Awright, fellas, what's up? Why the heck are y'all lookin' at me like that, huh? Is my nose upside down?"

As Ben quirked his little joke, he reached up to touch his nose.

...

...

...

......

......

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" Ben started laughing. "Boy, you guys really had me going there! Wow, you guys went all out on this! The explosion, knocking me out, puttin' me in this fake hospital room, and this big fancy costume. You really, really had me goin'! Hoo, Johnny, this is yer best prank yet!"

Ben jumped to his feet, grinning wide at the loud thump he made. He sauntered over to Johnny and laid his big, orange arm over his smaller shoulders.

"Gotta hand it to ya, Johnny, this costume's kinda neat. Fits me real nice. Think it'd be kinda cool t' walk around like this. I could scare so many kids."

Ben grabbed one his hands and tugged. Nothing happened. He tugged harder.

"Geez, Reed, what'd you use on this thing, superglue?"

 

[Eddie Brock]

Ben started when he saw Johnny, Reed, and Sue come in. He smirked. His memory came back quickly, and he recalled the explosion.

"Nice explosion there, Reed," Ben teased. "Thanks for landin' me in th' hospital."

Ben noticed the silence and unease Reed displayed, and realized all three of them were uneasy, even Johnny. Johnny managed to speak, but Ben could tell something was wrong. They had brought in a huge elephant in with them, and everyone was avoiding it. Well, Ben wasn't one for ignoring the big elephant in the room.

"Awright, fellas, what's up? Why the heck are y'all lookin' at me like that, huh? Is my nose upside down?"

As Ben quirked his little joke, he reached up to touch his nose.

...

...

...

......

......

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" Ben started laughing. "Boy, you guys really had me going there! Wow, you guys went all out on this! The explosion, knocking me out, puttin' me in this fake hospital room, and this big fancy costume. You really, really had me goin'! Hoo, Johnny, this is yer best prank yet!"

Ben jumped to his feet, grinning wide at the loud thump he made. He sauntered over to Johnny and laid his big, orange arm over his smaller shoulders.

"Gotta hand it to ya, Johnny, this costume's kinda neat. Fits me real nice. Think it'd be kinda cool t' walk around like this. I could scare so many kids."

Ben grabbed one his hands and tugged. Nothing happened. He tugged harder.

"Geez, Reed, what'd you use on this thing, superglue?"

I look anxiously at Sue, who is looking anxiously at Reed. Reed clears his throat before croaking, "Ben, I'm working on a cure as we speak."

All of our eyes are diverted back to Ben as the pieces of the puzzle begin to fit together. We're all anticipating his next move. He's either going to strangle us or he's going to break down and cry. Either way, it's not going to be a pretty sight.

Can he even cry? Sorry, wrong thing to be thinking about right now.

"Want to sit down, buddy?" I ask sheepishly as Ben stares off into space.

 

[The Manly Torch]

Ben paused for a moment. His smile had disappeared. Only for a moment.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Ben shook his head.

"Man, you guys are too good. You got me twice in a row! C'mon, do you honestly expect me to believe that I was transformed overnight by something exploding? This ain't your first screw-up, Reed, and it ain't gonna be your last. What could you have possibly been working on that could do something like this to me for real? Alright, you've all had your fun, joke's over, now tell me how to get this suit off. I'm startib' ta feel stuffy in this thing."

Nobody laughed.

Ben was quiet.

"Want to sit down, buddy?"


"Alright, alright, joke's over. It ain't funny anymore, fellas. I'm tired of you guys keepin' those serious faces on... Crack a smile... Crack a smile, god****it!"

 

[Eddie Brock]

Ben paused for a moment. His smile had disappeared. Only for a moment.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Ben shook his head.

"Man, you guys are too good. You got me twice in a row! C'mon, do you honestly expect me to believe that I was transformed overnight by something exploding? This ain't your first screw-up, Reed, and it ain't gonna be your last. What could you have possibly been working on that could do something like this to me for real? Alright, you've all had your fun, joke's over, now tell me how to get this suit off. I'm startib' ta feel stuffy in this thing."

Nobody laughed.

Ben was quiet.

"Want to sit down, buddy?"


"Alright, alright, joke's over. It ain't funny anymore, fellas. I'm tired of you guys keepin' those serious faces on... Crack a smile... Crack a smile, god****it!"

Right now, the only thing that would 'crack' would be Ben's bedspring. But, of course, I can't say that. We have to be sensitive to his situation. I look back to Reed and Sue for an idea on what to say, but Sue isn't there anymore.

"Reed, where'd Sue go?" I ask.

"I'm right here," Sue's voice announces. But, for the life of me, I can't see where she's talking from. Reed and Ben look just as puzzled.

Reed finally asks, "Right...where?"

"Right here!" Sue repeats loudly. "I'm standing right next--"

We are all quiet as Sue stops speaking. In the back of mind, I'm hoping she's okay. Then, without warning, she lets out an ear-piercing scream. Even Ben covers his ears - and I'm pretty sure that he doesn't have any!

"REED?! WHY CAN'T I SEE MYSELF?!"

Reed reaches out blindly, but he can't find her. "Sue, just calm down!" he instructs. Sue's panicked breathing slows, and she instantly reappears. We all fall completely silent.

"I think the situation is worse than I expected."

 

[The Manly Torch]

Susan had stopped screaming, but Ben kept his hands on his head as his head started spinning. He stumbled forward a few steps, trying desperately to think. Finally, he managed forth a thought in the form of spoken words.

"No freakin' way this is happening! No way! You're all trying to trick me! I don't look like this. I can't look like this! This ain't happening!"

Ben picked up the bed and flung it at the wall, cracking it considerably. With a loud cry, he threw himself into the wall, and he broke through. He fell silently, shocked that he had crashed through the wall without too much effort. He landed on his back, but he wasn't dazed. He laid still for a moment, trying to comprehend matters.

"Nah... Johnny, Brainiac, and Susie are just pullin' a great prank on me... I know it. Once they see how far it got, they'll come down here and tell me everything's alright. It's just a suit... it's just a..."

 

[Eddie Brock]

Susan had stopped screaming, but Ben kept his hands on his head as his head started spinning. He stumbled forward a few steps, trying desperately to think. Finally, he managed forth a thought in the form of spoken words.

"No freakin' way this is happening! No way! You're all trying to trick me! I don't look like this. I can't look like this! This ain't happening!"

Ben picked up the bed and flung it at the wall, cracking it considerably. With a loud cry, he threw himself into the wall, and he broke through. He fell silently, shocked that he had crashed through the wall without too much effort. He landed on his back, but he wasn't dazed. He laid still for a moment, trying to comprehend matters.

"Nah... Johnny, Brainiac, and Susie are just pullin' a great prank on me... I know it. Once they see how far it got, they'll come down here and tell me everything's alright. It's just a suit... it's just a..."

We all look around after Ben flips out.

"Well, I think that went well," I state sarcastically. Sue shoots me a glance that can only mean that now is not the time for jokes.

"Reed, we have to go after him!" Sue announces matter-of-factly.

Reed shakes his head. "Let him vent," he insists. "This is a lot to be handed all at once."

I nod in agreement. "Yeah, give the big guy a minute to cool off," I state. "In the meantime, you were invisible."

Suddenly, our attention is turned to Sue.

"Reed, what do we do?"

Reed sighs. "Johnny, go round up Ben," he instructs. "I need to get to work."

I hang my head low. Why do I have to be the one to go find Bigfoot? After Reed and Sue leave, I peer through the hole in the wall, but I don't see him.

"Grimm Reaper, you out here?"

 

[The Manly Torch]

(OOC: I left the outdoors appearance to you, but since you didn't touch on it, I'll elaborate... Given that Ben was airlifted here, I reckon it could be anywhere, even someplace remote for really special things like Ben's condition.)

IC: Ben stared up at the tree above his head, staring intently at the patch of the crown that had disappeared until he found the broken branch swinging from where it had cracked. Slowly, the fantasy turned into reality. Ben was big, gruesome, and heavy. The bed wasn't creaky, it was heavyladen. He wasn't stuffy, he had no pores. The wall wasn't easy to collapse, Ben was too heavy for it. The glove wasn't gonna come off... it wasn't a glove.

Ben heard Johnny calling for him, but he did not respond. He just lied there, taking one breath at a time, pondering his situation. He thought back to earlier...

It was a warm day, and a rare day. The weather was great and the sun was shining. For once, Ben felt good. He had not felt so good for quite a while. For once, things were peaceful. Ben laid back in his favorite La-Z-Boy and closed his eyes. Instead of dreaming of his lost love or the nightmares of Iraq, his dream consisted of a warm beach out on the Bahamas where Ben was still relaxing, but with a cocktail in his hand and sunglasses on his face.

Of course, Johnny ruined it all. Had to wake him up. But, it was okay. The power went out momentarily and everything discovered Reed working on another experiment. Ben was peeking in on Reed when he saw flames before his eyes, picking him up and tossing him out the window. Ben could see the stars from where he was, so full and bright. Then, his body slowly turned, and he saw a red van rapidly approaching. He was falling.
That was the last thing Ben saw.

Back to the present, Ben slowly stood to his feet, feeling rather awkward. Somehow knowing that this was a new body made it difficult to maintain balance. He took a step, holding onto the tree beside him. He took another step. Wasn't so hard, his foot just covered more ground. In fact, he felt pretty steady considering he was bigger and heavier. He took a couple of big steps, surprised by how much distance he covered. He really was a lot bigger than he normally had been.

He flexed his muscles.

"I wonder how strong I am. I picked up that bed pretty easily."

Without hesitation, Ben wrapped his arms around the nearest tree, a sturdy maple, and heaved upwards, uprooting the overgrown plant.

"Wow," he breathed.

He hefted it onto his palms and held it straight above his head. It wasn't that heavy. In fact, it felt as light as Johnny. Ben shoved the tree forward with great velocity, tearing down another tree it had impacted.
But, he didn't smile.

"Is... is this a good thing or a bad thing?"

 

[Eddie Brock]

As I tiptoe through the forest looking for Ben, memories flood my senses. I remember the one time that I got lost during a trip to Coney Island. I was only about five or six, and it was a traumatizing experience. There were so many people, and I hadn't yet come to appreciate a good crowd. That wouldn't come for years later.

I remember Dad looking everywhere for me. I had huddled by a cotton candy vendor when I heard him cry out. My young heart perked up at the sound of my father's voice. When he saw me, he ran up and grabbed me. He wanted to be mad that I wandered off, but he was too happy to see me again. He threw me over his shoulders and gave me a piggy-back ride to Mom.

Mom...man, there's a trip. What a woman she was. Wow, all these years later, it still hurts to think about her like she's gone. I think part of my sarcasm and attitude can be attributed to her death. I still haven't come to terms with it. Even worse, when Mom went, Sue did her best to be a motherly figure to me. But I was young, and I wanted my Mom - so I came to resent Sue for that. I've since forgiven her, but there's still a part of me...

Johnny, focus. Your 'family' has been blasted with God knows what, and you could all be horrific mutants for life. You need to find Ben and bring him back. It shouldn't be hard to find to find him out here.

Sure enough, I hear the sounds of trees crashing, and I know what direction to head in.

"Ben? BEN?! Ben, come back! You need Reed's help! We all need Reed's help!"

Heh. Reed's help. It was Reed's help that got us into this mess. I always warned Sue that smart guys were trouble.