Science Fiction HEROES: Tales to Astonish

Wayne Manor

Scott returned Clark's handshake as he spoke. "Oh, Mr. Xorn - Kuan-Yin Xorn, he's an instructor at the Xavier Institute. Brilliant man, very kind and polite, if a bit off-putting to some on account of the mask. I wouldn't want to speak for him, but I think he's very comfortable there, very happy. Some...connections of ours were able to get him out of a Chinese prison two years back. They had him hooked up as a power source."

Jimmy's brow furrowed. "Wait, how does that eve- you know what, I don't want to know. I'll take your word for it on it being a bad thing."

Lois held a similar expression. "A power source? Not to presume, but it's fairly obvious Mr. Xorn isn't exactly, well...your run-of-the-mill homo sapiens."

Scott nodded. "You're right. Professor Xavier is the leading voice of mutant rights these days, so of course he lives and works with mutants on a regular basis. Mr. Xorn's mutation is an exceptional one, but it's exactly that, a mutation. At the end of the day, he's very much human, like you or I," Scott allowed a grin before continuing, "it just happens that Xorn shines far brighter than the rest of us; only natural when your head is a star."

Before Clark could react, though, a quizzical expression came over his face for an instant.

Lois nodded. "Huh...so...that speech..."

Scott laughed. "It's a lot to take in, I'll give you that. Speech should be starting any moment now, actually - it should be a good one. Come by the podium after, I'll see to it you get to speak with the professor." And with another smile, Scott Summers made his way to the podium as those assembled began milling about for the best view of things.

But Clark had other things on his mind.

Tag: Reynar_Tedros Ramza

Spoiler: For Reynar

Clark has received a telepathic message from Martian Manhunter announcing incoming fighter craft approximately fifteen minutes off, possibly from HYDRA. Though this speech is happening, what happens after remains to be seen.

 

Westchester, NY

Slade sighed. He didn't have time for this. His employer had paid a good sum of money to bring Deadpool in, and Slade always held up his end of the bargain. Well, most of the time. When it suited him.

"Right. Team one, advance. Team two, cover fire. Have fun with it."

Gunfire erupted as the second team swept around the back of the building, holding in place.

This is too much fun.

Then he got an idea. He grabbed his radio, thumbed it on. "Team two, hold position, exactly where you are. Watch your heads. Over."

He lowered the radio. "Are the mortars in place?"

"Yes sir."

Beneath the mask, Slade allowed himself a smile. "Open fire, boys. Let's soften up the mouthy bastard."

Deadpool was in for a world of hurt as the first shells began to fall.

Tag: Splinterthemindseye_

 

Clark Kent
Wayne Manor

J'onn's telepathic interjections always seemed to come at the worst times, Clark couldn't help but think to himself as his mind instantly began flipping through its long list of excuses to give Lois in the event of an emergency. It had become an art form over the years, and the fact that she hadn't caught on (or, at least, didn't let on she had) to his conveniently timed fibs was almost a source of pride for him.

He looked down at the nearly empty wine glass in his hand, which made things much easier than usual. Though alcohol didn't affect him in the slightest, it wouldn't be hard for someone to believe that Clark Kent was a lightweight.

"Unhh," Clark moaned and lifted his glasses just enough to rub the inside corners of his eyes with his free hand, then set them back down on his nose with a small adjustment. "Hey, Lois? I think I'll go get some fresh air before the speech starts." He set the glass of wine on one of the empty tables. "Drink was a little stronger than I expected. Keep an eye on our fleet footed photographer?" He nudged Jimmy the way a good pal would and gave him the best sickly smile he could manage before departing for the exit. Hopefully Olsen wouldn't follow him with offers of company and Tylenol.

Clark looked around the large room for Bruce as indiscreetly as he could, but couldn't find him among all the other wealthy socialites before he found the door leading into the hallway entrance of Wayne Manor. He assumed J'onn made them both aware of the approaching aircraft, and that the billionaire would somehow manage to slip free of his enticing entourage of companions in order to meet him outside.

Clark opened the large door at the front of the mansion and stepped through. Though hardly inebriated, the calm rush of fresh air in his face always felt quite good after standing in a crowded room for a prolonged period of time. He put his hands in the front pockets of his slacks and walked down the steps from the door and scanned the area. No one was outside from what he could tell. Bruce must have been on his way. Either that or he was concealed in the shadows waiting for an opportune moment to chime in with his trademark dry wit.

To which Clark would respond with an inquiry as to why Wayne Manor hadn't a single phone booth.

Tag: Penguinator , Ramza

 

Deadpool
Westchester, NY

Apparently Slade didn't catch the joke about his one eye and took the vote seriously or he did catch it and Pool’s plan worked perfectly….

Oh I do hope it’s the latter!

Shut up.

Wade Dropped to the floor as bullets made Swiss-cheese out of the little shack. He watched from a small crack as the fire team settled in and continued to pelt his hidey-hole with suppression fire.

Suppression fire? Why?

Obvious… to suppress me.

Pool fiddled with his belt buckle until he was satisfied it was ready.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Pool slapped his palm to his face.

“Are you kidding me? You never say that. It invites trouble. Haven’t you ever seen an action movie?”

Turning back towards the direction Slade’s voice had come from.

“Hey Slade. Don’t be angry. I can’t help it that Stan ripped you off. If you think about it I’m just as much as a victim as you are. Speaking of victims….”

Pool reached down and tapped his belt buckle. The telltale glow of a transporter flashed, and Pool vanished from the shack…. And into the middle of the fire team.
Pool’s guns were up and firing as fast and accurately as possible as he materialized.


“Bang! Bang Bang Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang Bangbang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang Bangbang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang Bangbang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang Bang Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang Bang Bang! Bang! Bang! Click... Just kidding.... BANG!

TAG: @Penguinator

 

Jimmy Olsen
Wayne Manor

"Infamous Kent constitution strikes again," Jimmy noted to Lois as Clark wandered off. "Sir Kent is of noblest intent but 'twould seem he is too often felled by foul dragons of the stomach. You ask me, it's all this pollution we get up here on the coast. The air can't possibly be this bad out in the middle of Kansas."

He adjusted the lens on his Canon. "What he could use is a good nature assignment. Get out to the Appalachians, maybe. Mountain air, clear skies, hillbilly rednecks - hell, two out of three will be just like home. D'you reckon - oy."

Lois Lane, true to form, had wandered off without him. What on Earth does Superman see in that woman? he found himself thinking - though, on the other hand, it was pretty much Jimmy and Jimmy alone who got this sort of treatment. Lack of respect resulting from youth and inexperience, most likely. After all, Jimmy was only... what, 23? Yeah, birthday had been a month ago, that sounded right. And now that he thought about it, the only people who really bothered to give him the time of the day at the Planet were Clark and Perry White, and of those two's attentions, one was of a more welcome variety than the other.

Resigning himself to this lot in life, he snapped off a few quick shots of the various individuals near the podium, and then began the always enjoyable task of muscling his way through the crowd to find an aesthetically advantageous location.

TAG: Penguinator

 

IC: Lex Luthor
Coffee Shop, New York City

Lex smiled at the doctor's reply, and this one was completely real. He enjoyed the fact that the doctor displayed his intelligence, combined with not being entirely given over to desperation just yet. It was true that this might make his goals a bit more difficult to work for, but in the end felt so much more satisfying. And satisfaction was important. It wasn't always that one of his plans or projects allowed that bit of extra time to take it in, or even keep it in part of the process to begin with. He would need to bring forth some more of what he had prepared for in anticipation of the doctor's questions. Planning was important to him, an exercise of the mind. And while it was in fact true that plans do not survive contact with the 'enemy', that is why one prepares and thus plans for all eventualities. The smile spread just a tad before he drank from his coffee, putting the beverage down slowly before looking back up to meet his soon to be pawn in the eye.

"I would be quite the fool indeed if I were seeking you out, which was no small task mind, for a project that would be best filled by another. I am no fool." The words were uttered with the most concrete certainty which one might possibly hear in them. He made no mention of the doctor's claim on the possibility of bankruptcy, the laughable notion that it was. His legal and traceable assets alone could rebuild themselves twice over and they still made him one of the richest men on the face of the planet. No, he had no fears there save for the delays on any project they might interrupt, which at the most was an unfortunate inconvenience. "No Dr. Banner, what I have sought you out for is something entirely in your field." Drinking the last of his coffee he chose to continue onward while he had the most of the doctor's attention. "Over the past several decades, the exact origin date thus far unproven, our planet has been periodically struck with certain meteorites. While most of that which makes them up burns up in the decent, special amounts of it survive. Supposedly these pieces are the fragmented remains of a now destroyed planet." That latter tidbit had been a bit more than he had originally planned on saying, but it would have to do. He reached for his interior suit pocket as he continued to speak.

"While the exact amount that arrives on our planet each year varies, surprisingly no one has as of yet done a thorough study on the substance, other than that its radiation," he emphasizes the word, "is not at first glance harmful to our species or our planet, we know from our own history that initially unseen long term damage can have a great impact. I worry about this, and in my efforts to better understand its nature, have done my best to collect as much of the substance, officially referenced as 'kryptonite', which is supposedly named after the planet of its origin, as I can." Bringing his hand forth from where it had been searching revealed it to be holding a small container, no bigger than what might be used for a ring or similar piece of jewelry were it not for the hard steel exterior. In between the outer and inner layers was a section of lead, blocking the 'effects' he knew the luminescent stone had. "As you are perhaps beginning to guess, I have been looking for you to aid me in my attempts to better understand it, and to discover what kind of threat, if any, it might contain." Setting it on the table, halfway between him and Banner he retracts his hand leaving the container where it is. "Care to take a look?"

Tag: Amatsu Mikaboshi, Penguinator

 

GCPD Central

Bullock was seriously not enjoying himself. He was by no means a slow man; being a detective sort of required a certain degree of intelligence, and he had his impressive moments. He was realizing the error in bringing in the perp - and he knew Nygma was the perp - without something concrete. Generally, it worked; intimidation gave way to evidence, or implication, or even a confession, and while not necessarily ethically sound, that was how Harvey Bullock worked. Gordon gave him hell for it, but it generated results, so really, what was the problem?

The problem was, he'd clearly underestimated Nygma.

The actual moment of letting Nygma go was painful. That was when Bullock knew he'd let ego get the best of him. The smile on Nygma's face was painful to see, but he didn't flinch as he spoke, didn't break. Of course he lied about the reasons he was letting the man go; what else could he do?

The answers were simple: watch and wait. Make a few calls.

He made his way to Central's roof, flipped the generator switch for the signal. Hell, this way's more fun in the end.

***

The Nygma Penthouse Suite

Edward Nygma returned to his suite, still on guard from the altercation with Gotham's finest, still smiling, still acting. This had clearly been a frame-up of sorts from...someone. Nygma had enemies, he didn't delude himself from that fact, and yet he wasn't certain about the who or why.

And then it all clicked. Literally.

The the distinct sound of a gun cocking was the only audible sound in his penthouse.

"Turn. Slowly."

He did so, and the lights came on. As his eyes adjusted, he saw two figures. One was armed.



The other sat in Nygma's chair, nonchalant, relaxed.



"Hello, Edward. We've been expecting you," said Jason Wyngarde.

Tag: Ramza

 

The Print and Press Coffee Shop, NYC

As Luthor and Banner spoke, a man had been watching and listening. He'd had a lot of experience at those things; this conversation wasn't anything terribly out of the ordinary for one with his skills. The surprise he'd felt at seeing Luthor there was a challenge to hide, but it passed swiftly enough. He was an old hand at this.

He pulled the Yankees cap lower over his eyes, using his coffee as cover for a quick glance as he sipped. It wasn't bad, but he usually didn't go in for this sort of brew.

The voice on his earpiece came in. "Bet you're glad I coached you on the coffee, huh?"

"Sure am. Would've blown it for sure."

"Yeah, well, I don't think most people in here wear Yankees caps, either, chief."

"Isn't vintage 'in' now?"

"It's called 'retro,' and it's 'hip,' old timer."

He took another sip before speaking softly. The earpiece's mic picked him up clear as day. "All right, Clint. Well, wouldn't you know, but it's Luthor talking to Mr. Green."

"That ain't good."

"No it isn't."

"Know how you want to proceed?"

"Keep your tranqs ready. Make sure you've got your shot on Mr. Green at all times."

Clint's voice came back, the doubt evident. "You sure about this?"

"Nope, but what else am I going to do?"

He downed the rest of the coffee and stood from the chair, making his way over to Banner and Luthor.

"Hey guys. Mind if I join you a moment?"

They stared for a moment. He took it and pulled up a chair, positioning himself

"Captain Steve Rogers. I wish we could've met under different circumstances, Dr. Banner. And Mr. Luthor - surprised to see you here."

Tag: Yuul_Shamar Amatsu Mikaboshi

 

Edward Nygma
Penthouse Suite

Edward Nygma was a man of simple tastes - of all the features in his home, he was most fond of his very high ceiling. Immediately afterwards came his trusted recliner - a model that had served him throughout his collegiate days that he was unwilling to let go of. Next, his very large speaker system which made it sound like you were actually at a Stravinsky concert.



And after that came his extremely pricey collection of single malt Scotchs.

Simple.

Still, not even a glass of a particularly smoky whiskey and «Весна священная» could take his mind off the rather curious array of evidence that had been put before him in the Gotham City Police Department. For once, Bullock was not merely stupid, but being conned by an obvious framejob - the puzzle box that had been placed before him was plainly a trumped-up variant of a Soma cube, with each correct move corresponding to a cipher - they had gotten the date and location correct, but had failed to note an optional half-turn which could easily correspond to the date being some three months hence. That kind of craftsmanship was the sort of sloppy work one expected of an amateur or, in this case, someone styling himself a master con-artist who thought he could outwit the most brilliant intellect in crime.

Nygma sipped his drink. Even more annoyingly, the painting stolen had been The Madonna with Christ Child which was... well, it was a Raphael. There was not a tremendous love of those lost as far as Edward Nygma was concerned, as he glanced at the replica - or so he said - of Guernica that adorned his wall. Soma cube and a Raphael, eh? That indicated a man with classically refined tastes with an appreciation for more modern scientific advances - the Soma cube, after all, had been developed as part of a lecture on quantum mechanics and consequently had connections to Heisenberg of the famous uncertainty principle himself. Meanwhile Raphael was one of the archetypical Renaissance artists.

You began by looking at a list of the people who could create a... lackluster but acceptable replica of a Riddler riddle. You narrowed it firstly by those who had a somewhat more exceptional than usual appreciation for their h-bars over 2. You narrowed that then by appreciators of Renaissance works. Again still by the sort of fellow who would pass up a Da Vinci for a Raphael. Finally down to those who would bother to frame the King of Puzzles in the first place.

... Of course. The only possible explanation!

Click.

"You know, I appreciate these cookie sales, but my freezer is actually fairly well stocked with Thin Mints at the moment. You girls will have to settle for my buying a single box of Tagalongs. And do be careful, please, that chair cost me almost as much as I make in a minute."

4.3 seconds to reach doorway. Well outside of the time frame necessary for Cain to fire multiple rounds. 2.35 seconds to reach window large enough to break through. Multiple lacerations. Well outside of the time frame necessary for Cain to fire multiple rounds.

1.2 seconds to hurtle glass of Scotch at David Cain's face.

Simple.

"How can I help you fine gentlemen this evening?"

TAG: Penguinator

 

Penthouse Suite

Wyngarde smiled broadly and began to clap.

"Bravo, bravo, Edward!"

He stood, clasping his hands in front of his chest, a gesture that lent a certain air of eagerness to the man known as Mastermind.

"Apologies for the intrusion; it was necessary, of course. You'll understand, I'm sure. And my apologies for Mr. Cain's presence, but my employer thought it necessary to include a show of force. Given your predilection for calculated risk, I'm tempted to agree with him."

Wyngarde's smile dropped for a moment.

"I assure you we have no intention of killing you unless absolutely necessary, my friend. The business with the Raphael, smoke and mirrors as far as the authorities are concerned, and for the time it shall remain so. Unless of course we're given a reason to forget the painting in your lodgings here - very nice, by the way, Guernica, fantastic stuff - and...well!" He clapped his hands together. "I do hope it doesn't come to that."

Cain snorted. Wyngarde shot him a look. Nygma could have sworn he saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, but the moment passed.

Wyngarde's smile returned in full force. "To business, then! There is a code that needs cracking. You're the one for the job. Be a dear and crack it so we can let the jokers and thieves have their fun, eh?"

He removed a small drive from his pocket and placed it on the bar.

"Typical encryption from the usual watchmen of our era, but we'd quite enjoy watching over them in our own right, if you catch my meaning."

Tag: Ramza

 

Wayne Manor

"...without further ado, please join me in welcoming Professor Charles Xavier to the stage!"

A round of applause erupted as a bald man in a hoverchair - the latest in Stark Technology - floated gently across the stage. He wore a microphone on his lapel, the wireless unit tucked discreetly at his side, and his voice came over clear to all those present.

"Thank you very much, Mayor Krol. I am very pleased to see so many of you here tonight, but more than that, I am touched. These past twenty years have been massive for mutant rights, bringing both good and bad with them. Indeed, since the first recorded appearance of mutantkind in 1967, the fight has been long and hard, but the rewards great."

There were nods about the manor grounds. It became apparent to Jimmy that there were quite a few more mutants in attendance than he had previously thought.

"The parallels between the plight of the mutant population and that of so-called 'race' relations is shocking and continues to amaze and sadden me. That we should treat our fellow man with such contempt based on arbitrary differences, even in this day and age, is downright horrifying. This issue is one of genetics and chance - we are all mutants, technically speaking, and all feature our own mutations, manifested in hair colour, eye colour, the way our bodies react to medicine, et cetera et cetera. We have chosen to use 'mutant' to refer specifically to those among us with an active genetic sequence - the X-gene, as it has become known."

Photographers snapped away.

"This is arbitrary. This is a fear-based reaction. Homo sapiens has a nasty habit of fearing the unknown, the different." Xavier smiled, and glanced off-stage. A perceptive observer would have noticed a look of confusion on Erik Lensherr's face.

"Years ago, my old friend Erik Lensherr actively pursued the militant advancement of mutant rights. To some, this was terrorism; to others, a fight for freedom, a call for justice; to myself, it was troubling. Homo sapiens fears the unknown and the different. What could be more terrifying than this unfamiliar new force fighting on our doorstep, demanding equality, if not superiority? Erik and I had a falling out. And yet here we are, friends again, though we still have strong disagreements and bicker like an old married couple. I cannot condemn Erik for his actions; his cause was noble, even if his methods caused me concern. Mutants are different. Mutants are unique. Erik preached a message of superiority - mutantkind standing apart, alone against the storm. He even took to using the term homo superior. Through it all I advocated non-violence, even in the face of overwhelming hatred and fear."

Lensherr's brow furrowed in amazement as Xavier continued to speak.

"Now we see our youth wearing t-shirts bearing the slogan 'MAGNETO WAS RIGHT.' And while I've continued to fight my battle on my terms, I cannot deny the effect Erik's actions and steadfast belief in his cause has had on the world. Society hates and fears the mutant. Society fears change. It is with that in mind that I have come here tonight. For years, I have held that the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning was designed as a haven for open thought, a safe ground for all in need of a home. And for years, I have suspected there was a higher purpose for my school. Today, I am pleased to announce the Xavier Institute will be specializing in education for and by mutant teachers."

The audience broke out with applause and cheers. Xavier motioned for silence with his hand, a smile still on his face.

"Erik taught me that half-measures mean little. Half-measures get us nowhere. Erik taught me to demand respect, to demand equality - and thus I must say, Magneto was right."

The crowd erupted once more, some audience members gasping. Erik Lensherr smiled broadly, nodding at his old friend. Xavier motioned for silence once more.

"With that in mind..."

He took a deep breath.

"...half-measures no more. I, Charles Francis Xavier, am proud to declare to the world at large: I am a mutant."

Tag: Ramza Reynar_Tedros

 

Clark Kent
Wayne Manor

"...half-measures no more. I, Charles Francis Xavier, am proud to declare to the world at large: I am a mutant."

Clark wasn't sure what was louder in his ears between Xavier's spontaneous declaration and the reaction from the crowd in its wake. Snapshots being taken from all the cameras in the room (Jimmy's index finger was surely growing fatigued), gasps from those in attendance... the kind of reaction one would expect from such a bombshell announcement. When the dust settled, though, Clark doubted many people would be truly shocked at the news. Taken aback at the announcement, sure. But the man had been fighting passionately for Mutant rights for the better part of two decades. It was a reasonable conclusion that he had some sort of connection with them.

Clark couldn't help but reflect on his own situation. A Kryptonian, an alien. Hidden in plain sight, shielded by a pair of glasses and a bumbling alter-ego. How many times throughout the years Clark had been tempted to reveal his true identity, he couldn't count. To just stand up and tell the world "I'm Superman." Others had come forward, sure, specifically Tony Stark. But Stark was human. Stark didn't face the threat of being a lab experiment, a scientist's toy, someone whose sun was the lens of a microscope.

And then there were those he cared about. Lois. His parents. Jimmy. Who knew what someone would do to them to get to Clark? He didn't want to think about it. Contrast to the venerable Charles Xavier, Clark's secret would remain just that. He wondered what ramifications the activist would face now that the world knew the truth for certain. Clark would definitely be keeping a close eye on the man's situation, and the situation of his school. But for now, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Clark checked his watch. The tail end of fifteen minutes wasn't far off now. Bruce wasn't outside yet. Had he stayed for the speech? Had J'onn even given him the message? Surely he did. Clark looked back at the doors of the mansion, and then back up at the sky. His fingers began to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt.

Tag: Penguinator

 

IC: Bruce Banner
Coffee Shop, New York City

His tea forgotten Bruce digested each and every word spoken by Lex Luthor, and for a brief moment his heart raced with excitement. It was then that he realized that he was leaning forward and sitting on the edge of his chair, visibly excited by information Lex was sharing with him.

Quickly Bruce set his mind to the task of relaxing his body. He leaned back into his chair and after taking a slow deep breathe grabbed the forgotten and rapidly cooling tea. He took a rather large sip, more a gulp, and set it down slowly.

During the past years the scientist that was Bruce Banner, had been repressed. The singular task of finding a cure kept him from meaningful work more often than not, and the rest of the time his alter ego kept potential employers away. Bruce was a wanderer, his life meaningless. The only real emotion he could afford to feel was fear. Anything else was a risk, a danger to the entire world. Fear kept him alert, kept him safe. Kept everyone safe. However now, with a real opportunity for something more before him, though against his better judgement, Bruce felt something he hadn't in a long time. Hope.

This was something Bruce needed. A chance to once again work. A lab that he can call his own, and a project that could give him an opportunity to give something back to the world which he had as of late given nothing but suffering. More than the work however, Lex's offer of a safe haven, a place to continue his own research on how to reverse the effects the gamma radiation had on his body, that was more than Bruce could have asked or hoped for.

"As you are perhaps beginning to guess, I have been looking for you to aid me in my attempts to better understand it, and to discover what kind of threat, if any, it might contain." Lex set a small steel box on the table between them and left it there, this container containing a shard of the material Lex referred to as kryptonite. "Care to take a look?" Bruce hesitated, looked Lex in the eye for many moments before extending his own hand towards the small case.

"Hey guys. Mind if I join you a moment?" The voice almost startled Bruce, and he brought his hand back quickly from the case as he looked up to see who had spoke.

The man pulled up a chair, seating himself at the table without any word from Lex or himself and introduced himself, "Captain Steve Rogers. I wish we could've met under different circumstances, Dr. Banner. And Mr. Luthor - surprised to see you here."

Bruce wasn't sure who this Captain Rogers was, but the man seemed to know him. That wasn't too surprising, almost everyone knew who the Hulk was and by extension they also knew who Bruce Banner was. Bruce nodded politely and looked towards Lex, a mild look of confusion showing clearly on his face.

Tag: Yuul_Shamar & Penguinator

 

Westchester, NY

Slade frowned beneath his mask. Fantastic. Teleportation module.

"We got a jumper, boys. Watch your backs. I'm going in."

Team two was being decimated by the mouthy merc, his guns dropping trained professionals like flies. Deathstroke checked the sword at his back, grabbed a rifle, and sighted down its scope. There was Wade Wilson, guns blazing, mouthing off as he did so. Slade inhaled, exhaled, let his mind find the pattern beneath the movement in his scope...and fired.

It was beautiful, really.

The shot soared across their personal battlefield, narrowly avoiding Deathstroke's own men before connecting with the barrel of Deadpool's gun, throwing off the man's aim and sending him careening to the side. Team two began to regain their composure - well, what was left of them - and Deathstroke signalled team one to advance.

They'd beat him there, but they'd slow down his target, perhaps at the cost of their lives. But of course, they knew what they were in for when they signed on with the legendary Slade Wilson.

No quarter. It's a shame the boss wants him alive.

TAG: Splinterthemindseye_

 

The Print and Press Coffee Shop, NYC

"Doc," said Rogers, "We've been following you for a long time. You've done a great job at staying off-grid, I have to say - could teach some of my crew a thing a two about it, really - but we need you to come home."

He paused, letting that sink in.

"The Hulk is dangerous, Doc."

TAG: Yuul_Shamar Amatsu Mikaboshi

 

Wayne Manor

"You're late."

Clark couldn't place the voice immediately - surely not Bruce? - before the pieces fell into place.

"Tt. I've been ready to go all night, Kent. What took you so long?"



As if sensing Clark's next question, the ten-year-old said, "He's on his way."

All of a sudden, a HYDRA soldier fell from the balcony above, hitting the ground with a thud, unconscious. Clark looked up, caught himself, then turned around.

"Glad you could make it, Superman."



"J'onn's estimate was off. They're already here - advance guard, infiltration specialists. Robin-" Damian's back straightened, ready for his mission, "-stick with Superman for now. Ensure the safety of the guests. I'll handle the specialists."

Damian frowned. "But father-" Batman's eyes narrowed. Damian bit his lip. "Yes sir."

With a rustle of his cape, Batman was gone again. Clark could feel the telepathic connection from J'onn linking the three of them. <My apologies, Superman. We have airborne targets inbound - a lot of them - your assistance would be appreciated, old friend. Robin, take care of the guests - they'll be on the rear grounds by now - keep them safe.>

***

As the first ships appeared in the distance, bearing the unmistakable HYDRA insignia, the assembled guests began to panic. A kid in yellow and red (Jimmy's expression was priceless) began barking orders and punching out HYDRA soldiers that had somehow just appeared or had been lying in wait or maybe even in disguise and-

Jimmy realized he'd need a larger memory card.

"Jimmy!"

He felt a hand close on his arm and yank him away, ruining a shot of the kid performing an amazing split kick in mid-air that sent HYDRA teeth flying. Lois Lane was brave, smart, and beautiful, but her sense of timing was awful.

"We are getting out of here!"

Tag: Ramza Reynar_Tedros

 

IC: Bruce Banner
Coffee Shop, New York City

"The Hulk is dangerous, Doc." The words echoed in his mind for what seemed like minutes, though little more than a few seconds passed. Irritated Bruce finally replied, "I know that more than anyone Captain Rogers."

Bruce sighed, he was tired. Tired of running, tired of living in fear. Bruce wanted to go home, his heart ached for it. Even the word sounded sublime, but Bruce knew what this Captain Rogers couldn't. Bruce would never have a home, not as long as the Hulk was alive.

"I am sorry Captain Rogers, I can't go with you." Looking down to the box in the center of the table Bruce continued as he reached out, "It isn't that I trust him completely," he said referring to Lex, "but I trust the government even less." Bruce opened the box slowly.



A smile crossed his face at first sight of the kryptonite, of course it would be green. How ironic.

Satisfied that he had made the right choice Bruce snapped the box shut. "I hope you will understand my decision Captain Rogers, but I am going with Mr. Luthor."

Tag: Yuul_Shamar Penguinator

 

IC: Lex Luthor
Print and Press Coffee Shop, NYC

He could clearly see the increasing interest and downright excitement in the doctor's eyes and body language as he spoke, he had the doctor now. As he finished, he watched as the doctor reach for the case, but not before meeting his own gaze for a prolonged period. There was at least some small level of distrust that the doctor held for him. It was to be expected. He had already taken it for a given in his considerations and seeing it now did not bother him in the slightest. Dr. Banner's reach towards the small container was sadly interrupted right before it could reach its goal by the voice of another. "Hey guys. Mind if I join you a moment?" Were Lex Luthor a normal man, which he most assuredly was not, he may have responded rudely or broke any emotional facade his face was carrying at the moment. But he was not a normal man. And so he turned, a feigned curious air, with a slight hint of annoyance that even most would display, just to make the expression all the more real.

Dr. Banner retracted his hand quickly at the sudden interruption, even as the man sat down without approval. "Captain Steve Rogers. I wish we could've met under different circumstances, Dr. Banner. And Mr. Luthor - surprised to see you here." Ah, the oft hailed as a hero Captain America. It went unsaid that he himself had as one of his many projects tried and failed to replicate the experiment the captain was a part of. All subjects used had unfortunately met a painful death in the process, and his scientists hushed up and moved to different projects. None would really consider revealing anything to begin with. "I could reciprocate Captain." What went unsaid was the 'Whatever are you doing here?' It was, to be certain, about the doctor, or more specifically the Hulk, of course. But the question was why. Pretending to straighten his suit jacket he pressed one of the four buttons on his expensive looking wristwatch. They had nothing about them that described their purpose save for what he himself had memorized. There was the standard 'all clear', 'possible threat', and 'definite threat', which were your basic green, yellow, and red alerts. The fourth was coded for 'complications' for the more murky place where things fell between. This was the one he activated, sending a signal to Mercy. Unlike the latter two of the main three she would not attempt to reach him, merely be all the more alert for it.

Mercy had truly been quite the find for him. She had not said as much or purposefully revealed anything, but from his own observations and deductions he suspected her to be of amazon origins. It would certainly explain some things. But for the moment we have gotten of track. "Doc, we've been following you for a long time. You've done a great job at staying off-grid, I have to say - could teach some of my crew a thing a two about it, really - but we need you to come home." So they were attempting to take him away, and he suspected they may attempt to use force, likely intending to drug him or tranquilizer him into unconsciousness before the Hulk could come out. This could get dangerous. "The Hulk is dangerous, Doc." Lex smiled dryly. Oh how so very obvious Captain.

"I am sorry Captain Rogers, I can't go with you." Dr. Banner said, reaching back towards the unopened case as he gazed towards it. "It isn't that I trust him completely," And that was a wise notion to keep in mind, however great an annoyance it would be for him. "but I trust the government even less." And that was true for the doctor, and in Lex's own opinion, a just one. Some of his eyes and ears in the various government workings and agencies had spoken of things that made most of his less than legit operations and projects look like a happy go lucky preschool. He noticed the smile on the doctor's face at his first glance at the sample he had brought. After a brief moment Dr. Banner snapped the lid shut. "I hope you will understand my decision Captain Rogers, but I am going with Mr. Luthor."

"Excellent. When do you wish to leave Doctor?" He inquired in a polite tone, keeping a careful watch on the captain and as much of the diner as he could see from the corners of his eyes. Studying things away from one's eyes' centers of focus took a great deal of practice, but like many things, Lex had it mastered. Gazing at is watch in a pretense to check the time, he already had a rather accurate internal sense of time, his hand near the panic buttons if the captain did in fact attempt to force the issue.

Tag: Amatsu Mikaboshi, Penguinator

 

Jimmy Olsen
Wayne Manor

These goons had picked the worst possible moment to attack - every photographer in the room had already drained their roll (Or, he supposed, it was storage space nowadays) on the Xavier reveal, and now they attacked? It was incredibly discourteous of them. Jimmy thrust his hand into his inside pocket. He was going to have to use-

Nothing, apparently, because Lois Lane had decided that this was precisely when she was going to rendezvous with the neophyte.

"We are getting out of here!"

"But there's a kid in red and green tights fighting a bunch of previously disguised HYDRA agents! Think of the headlines - 'Xavier a Mutant, Partygoers Saved by Boy Wonder!' Slap that on the front of every copy of the Planet with a good shot of the kid in action and we'll outstrip the Star in sales by 2-to-1! Mr. White will give me a promotion and we will literally swim in pools full of champagne because we will have enough money to buy pools, fill them with champagne, and then going swimming in them. Furthermore -"

Some stray teeth flew by their faces.

"Furthermore: seriously, are you watching this? I'm pretty sure he just broke that guy's jaw! This is spectacular stuff and where the actual hell did I put that stup-"

An explosion nearly made him lose his balance. More importantly, it caused Ms. Lane to lose her grip on the young reporter, who promptly put some distance between himself and her. There was no way he was just going to run when something like this was going-

Another blast went off dangerously close to the reporter, close enough to send him careening into a wall with a thud.

It was ten seconds before he managed to pry his eyes open.

... That was going to hurt in the morning.

The reporter sighed, examining his suit. Torn to pieces. His right leg a mangled mess of its former self, the culprit debris still lodged atop his shin. Pain radiating from nearly everywhere he could still feel.

"Yes, yes, okay Father, point taken, I..." he was babbling deliriously, he knew. "I know, I enjoy it too much, but it's... it's nice, you know? Sometimes you just want to..." He gripped at the walking stick in his hands that, if anyone could possibly make anything out amidst the panic and kicked up dust and fires that were beginning to break out, would've been a plainly new addition to his accoutrement. "Sometimes you just want to commingle, like... ow..."

Jimmy was not an especially durable lad. "Okay, you know what? Fine. Fine. Just fix me up, okay? That's all I ask. I am not coming back this messed up. It's not happening. Not." He tapped the walking stick. "Happening." Another tap.

If there was a flash and the roar of distant thunder, it was drowned out by the din of another bomb.

---

A shout from one of the HYDRA agents: "Hail HYDRA! Masters of the world!"

A challenge: "Thou would-be despots claim dominance of Midgard? By Odin's bristling beard - I say thee nay!"

A metallic whirl.

A thud of hammer meeting HYDRA agent, downing him.

A slap of leather straps colliding with hand.

And the roar of distant thunder.



"Come then - I would have words!"

And like the warrior he was, Thor, the God of Thunder, launched himself into the fray.

TAG: Penguinator Reynar_Tedros

 

The Print and Press Coffee Shop, NYC

Outside the coffee shop, Clint Barton frowned. "Dammit, Steve."

A voice came in on his earpiece. "What's the situation, Clint?"

"Banner ain't into the whole 'come along quietly' thing."

"Can you blame him?"

"Nope." He shifted in his perch. "What's your take on this, Rhodey?"

Rhodey sighed over the comm. "We've got the Hulkbuster if worse comes to worse. But Luthor...I dunno, we'll have to talk to Tony about it. Probably Big Blue, too."

Clint smiled wryly. "Fantastic."

***

Rogers' smile remained, but his tone was firm. "Dr. Banner, I have to insist. I hate to say it, but you are a wanted man. We can sort all of this out now, grab a cup of coffee and talk about everything."

He turned to Luthor. "As for you, Mr. Luthor, you'll be harbouring a known fugitive."

Tag: Amatsu Mikaboshi Yuul_Shamar

 

IC: Lex Luthor
Print and Press Coffee Shop, NYC

"As for you, Mr. Luthor, you'll be harboring a known fugitive."

Lex met the soldier's eye firmly. "Not, I think, according to my lawyers." He adorns a pondering look for a moment, to cover for his seeing Mercy, walking along the sidewalk blending in mostly as another business person, quickly flash him a number of fingers followed by a brief shrug disguised as if stretching the neck before the crowd covered her up once more. "Although I hardly think that even if you press the issue you will follow legal process. Not with everyone else you have waiting outside at least." He truly must contemplate giving his bodyguard a substantial bonus after this finished up.

Confident that the doctor was done with it Lex placed the container, now closed, back in his pocket and smiled in a placating manner at the captain.

Tag: Amatsu Mikaboshi, Penguinator

 

Superman
Wayne Manor

It didn't take long after the chaos began for Clark to ditch the tie and glasses and rip the buttons of his shirt to oblivion. The disguise was removed. No longer was Clark hidden behind transparent lenses, forced to restrain himself from using the abilities inherent within him. The long red cape that had previously been hidden now billowed freely in the late afternoon wind. It never got old.

He spread his feet and bent his knees, put one fist in the air and the other by his chest, and leapt. With a loud but soft boom and some cracked concrete from where he lifted off, Superman was in the air.



It took him but a second to find his first target, one of the many HYDRA ships that littered the skies.

"Hail HYDRA! Masters of the world!"

Using his X-ray vision, Superman narrowed his eyes and focused in on the ship, locating its engine. He grinned (he'd almost forgotten how much he enjoyed this) and shot forward in the sky, zooming towards his target with the speed of a jet fighter. The black aircraft approached fast, and Superman shot right through its hull with the engine in his hands. He discarded the hulking chunk of metal like a play toy as the ship was sent careening down to the earth from whence it came. His eyes scanned the area for another target until they found the unmistakable sight of a powerful ally.

"Thou would-be despots claim dominance of Midgard? By Odin's bristling beard - I say thee nay!"

A metallic whirl.

A thud of hammer meeting HYDRA agent, downing him.

A slap of leather straps colliding with hand.

And the roar of distant thunder.

"Come then - I would have words!"

Superman's eyes followed Thor's path throughout the sky and he suddenly felt a rush of pity for the attackers. After all, facing down a Kryptonian was one thing. Facing down a Kryptonian allied with a thunder god? Well, the odds probably weren't in your favor.

There was no need for an introduction. The two could exchange pleasantries later. After all, they had a job to do. Superman felt a bullet ricochet off his shoulder, and he slowly turned around to face the shooter responsible. He would come to regret following that order very soon.

Tag: Penguinator, Ramza

 

Wayne Manor

In the chaos, few noticed the Xavier Institute's representatives rapidly moving through the crowd, ushering the panicking socialites to safety.

Scott Summers made a beeline for Xavier himself, but was waved off. "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, Scott, thank you - see what you can do to take care of these aggressors."

Erik Lensherr was standing, eyes transfixed on the approaching ships on the horizon. Superman had done considerable damage to the first wave, and that made Lensherr smile. His mind reached out - his abilities - and he probed at the matter of the next wave. Plastics and polymers, alloys and non-ferrous metals. Foolish. A few words came to mind.

"'Have you grasped nothing of the reason why I am in the world?'"

Scott ran to Lensherr, grabbed his shoulder, "Erik, we should-"

"Thank you, Mr. Summers, that will be all."

Three carrier ships imploded, as though crushed from an imbalance of pressure. Erik's smile was grim, and Scott let go of his shoulder.

"I didn't...that was...amazing..."

"Indeed, Mr. Summers, for I am a master of the forces of magnetism. Apply yourself and one day that'll make sense."

In the distance, towards the cliff behind Wayne Manor, the robed and masked figure of Kuan-Yin Xorn strode to the edge, distancing himself from the civilians. Emma joined Scott and Lensherr, out of breath from some altercation. "An update from Kuan-Yin, he says to stay ba-"

Even as she spoke, Xorn's hands went to his mask. All detail was lost in a blast of light emanating from his face, white-hot and crackling with energy. The entire second wave disappeared from the sky.

Xorn's hands resealed his mask, and the moment passed. Erik Lensherr's expression was one of awe. "Simply beautiful..."

But there were still troops on the ground, and a new speck appeared in the sky - no, many specks - falling fast, directly at the Manor.

Robin's gaze shot to the sky, and he pressed a button on his mask, magnifying his view. "Batman, it looks like - you?"

Batman dropped the thug he'd just knocked out and matched Robin's gaze. "I see them. I need fliers catching them, now!"

Tag: Ramza Reynar_Tedros

 

Superman
Wayne Manor; Exterior

"I see them. I need fliers catching them, now!"

Superman, still hovering above Wayne Manor and adjusting to the rapidly changing situation (three ships had just imploded on themselves and the rest practically vaporized from a sudden burst of light), followed the sights of Batman and Robin, further up into the sky. His eyes widened. There were bodies plummeting towards the earth, seemingly from nowhere. Four, by his count. He looked over at Thor.

"I'll get two, you get the other two!" he shouted. And with that, he took off higher into the sky. As he approached the bodies, he noticed something peculiar about a couple of them. They seemed to be... in costume. Costumes that looked, oddly enough, like variations of Batman's suit. What was going on?

There would be time for questions later. For now, Superman grabbed the two non-...Batmen, a man and a woman, and rocketed back down to the others.

Tag: Penguinator, Ramza