Science Fiction HEROES: Tales to Astonish

H E R O E S​

He caught the spinning batarang smoothly. The final thug lay limp and unconscious on the floor of the warehouse before him, his arm strewn haphazardly across the chest of one of his eight comrades. With a grin, the Batman folded up the batarang, letting the suit's prep mechanism pull it back into a ready position, close at hand.

The HUD showed him his heart rate, an accuracy breakdown, and an incoming communication. He took the initiative on it. "How's that, old man?"

He stretched as he spoke, his lean, wiry frame echoed in the angular full-face cowl. The response came in over his earpiece, the voice gravelly and low. "Tt. I was faster in my day."

The Batman smiled. "Better training, huh?"

"Of course. All the training. Better than an old man. Now get back to the briefing room."

The lights in the warehouse came up. Uniformed medics filed in, slowly reviving and checking on the thugs - or rather, the volunteers. The Batman smiled, and stepped off the training floor and into a lift.

***

The Watchtower's science labs were abuzz with activity.

Old Stark had picked up some odd action in the Earth's gravity well and had been monitoring it for two days straight. Aided by his exoskeleton, Stark puttered around the labs, grilling those under his watch - his minions, he liked to call them.

He ran a hand through his white hair, a constant reminder of his age. At least he wasn't bitter about it like Wayne, and he had twenty years on the guy.

"Mr. Stark?"

He glanced up. One of the techs was bringing a datapad over.

He sat up straight in his chair. "What've you got for me?"

The tech hurriedly handed the data to Stark. As he read it over, his eyes widened.

Not good.

***

The Batman stood in the League's conference room, listening to his superiors - his comrades. Seated at the big table was the old man - his mentor and predecessor - and the Kryptonian himself.

"So, Terry. What do you think?" Said Kal-El with a smile.

The Batman - Terry - was awestruck. "You want me - me - in the League?"

The old man nodded. "We certainly do. You're ready."

Terry beamed with pride. "Then I'm in! Of course I'm in, how could I not-"

The alarms went off. Terry froze.

***

Stark briefed them quickly.

"Minovsky interference has been rapidly building these past few days, so we looked into it. Massive electromagnetic disturbances in space/time have been detected, originating from Earth - naturally. I mean, when aren't we threatened?"

The old man scowled. "Tt. So what does it mean? Obviously we're under attack - surely not Lensherr?"

Stark frowned. "I was afraid you'd think that. He's been dead, what, twenty years now?"

The old man groaned. "It's one of these situations, isn't it? Fantastic."

Kal-El crossed his arms. There was an unspoken understanding between the three men, and Terry struggled to keep up. Who was Lensherr? And what was "one of these situations?"

He cleared his throat. "Um, so - what's the plan?"

Kal-El chuckled. "Never thought I'd hear the Batman say that."

"The plan is," said Stark, "you're going back. Forty years back."

"…in time?"

The old man stood. "And so am I."

"You can't have two Batmen back then, let alone three!"

The old man scowled at Stark. "There's a precedent. Kent knows. I'll use the suit. I'll be the Iron Bat."

***

They assembled on the transport pad. Terry was visibly nervous; Rachel Summers and the old man joined him, ready for transport, along with Steven Rasputin.

Stark's voice came over from the nearby control room. Techs were hurrying around, scrambling to work as he spoke.

"You'll have to work fast. We're already seeing the effects of temporal disruption here - I'll keep it simple, timelines are splitting at an unknown point approximately forty years ago. This does not bode well, obviously. Go back, find what's causing this, and stop it before it tears a hole in space/time."

He flicked a few switches.

"And just…if you meet me, just - Rachel, you especially - do not be charmed."

And with a crack, they were gone.

 

Welcome to HEROES: Tales to Astonish, a game of superheroic goings-on! ​

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​

Much like Excelsior and Origins before it, this game is, at its core, a massive crossover of DC, Marvel, Vertigo, and Dark Horse comics - essentially, any comic character you can think of is fair game (within reason). You will engage in superheroics, you will rise, you will fall, and throughout, you will be a hero.

Perhaps even a villain.

Obviously, with such a crossover, there will be much debate and discussion over what is considered "canon" for this game. A large part of this will be revealed as we play, but an even greater part is determined by the players themselves.

Your characters are will exist in the year 2020. They are about to receive a visit from counterparts - or even their future selves - from 2060, just in time to stop a great catastrophe from occurring. But all is not as it seems.

Will you take up the call to save the world? Or will you bend it to your will?

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Rules:

- the GM has final say in all things. Beyond that, the moderators do. Coincidence? Perhaps!
- No godmodding - but indeed, how can you, when I can make offending posts DISAPPEAR?
- PM all CSes to myself.
- Be prepared to write!
- Respect your fellow players
- And, of course, obey all JC rules, RPF rules, and the TOS.

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The Character Sheet:

About this - I'm comfortable with letting each of you craft your own CS, whether it be detailed or bare-bones. Simply PM them to me and I'll look them over for approval. Another option is to PM me with a character idea and then hash out the finer points with me. Perhaps there are plots you'd enjoy trying, perhaps there's an arc you'd like to undertake, or perhaps you're simply unsure of where to start! Whatever the case, fire off a PM to me and we'll work something out!

A template is provided by way of suggestion - add or subtract as you wish!

Name:
Age:
Abilities:
Appearance:
Bio:

 

Riddle me this: What do you call a character sheet that's been okayed by William C. Durant?

Name: Edward Nygma

Alias: The Riddler

Age: 28

Abilities:

• Superintelligent.
• Highly charismatic.
• Has access to a large array of advanced gadgets via his personal wealth, including a "Clue Cane" equipped with weapons.
• Can pull off a green suit, which I think you will concur is no small feat.

Appearance:


Biography:

Edward Nygma was a man who got a bit too bored with his day to day routine. Sure, you could go into the technical details, like how his astonishing intellect allowed him to speed through the education system, or how his uncanny knack for planning led to him becoming one of the fastest Wall Street successes in recent memory, or how he moved to Gotham City because he got a better deal on a penthouse suite there than he would've in Manhattan, but those are semantics.

No, like you or I have all too often, Mr. Nygma awoke one morning to discover life no longer challenged him in a satisfactory or meaningful way. So he decided to try something different. Something no one would possibly expect one of Forbes' "20 Figures to Watch of 2018" could stoop to: crime. Lots and lots of crime.

But that would be far too mundane for a man of Mr. Nygma's talents, so he instead opted for a more colorful route. He cast himself in the role of "The Riddler," a mysterious arch-criminal who baffles police with his ominous cyphers - each of which, when inevitably decoded far too late to prevent the crime, proved to be a tantalizing clue to what his target would be.

For you see, Mr. Nygma was so bored that he had decided to challenge the entire world to a battle of wits. And then, just for the laughs, he decided he was going to win it.

---

Breaking News! Game Master Approves Plucky Cub Reporter for Play! More on this as it develops.

Name: James "Jimmy" Olsen

Age: 23

Abilities:

• Has a good eye for photography and almost no ability to sense imminent danger.

Appearance:


Biography:

Jimmy Olsen, despite his age, has received numerous awards for his photojournalism endeavors - including, but not limited to:

• Best Amateur Photograph, Staged, Daily Star, 2019
• Cumulative 3.7 GPA, Department of Photographic Studies, Metropolis University, 2019 (BA)
• Best Amateur Photograph, News, Daily Star, 2018
• Voted "Most Likely to Become a Photographer", Lake Wood High School, 2015
• Best Family Portrait, Hoover Elementary School, 2008

Is it any wonder, then, that he was able to score a lucrative, paying, entry-level position with room for advancement at the Daily Planet, the #2 newspaper in the greater Metropolis area? Of course not. Because Jimmy Olsen is man driven by his artistic vision and his ruthless pursuit of capturing the truth on a relatively high resolution .png image. And he's not going to stop until his photography has changed the entire world!

Or until Perry White lays him off for missing another deadline. One of those.

 

GM Approved!

Name: Alexander 'Lex' Luthor

Age: 36

Abilities:

• Genius-level intelligence.
• Proficient with Technology.
• One of the richest men on the planet.
• Owner of LexCorp and a number of subsidiaries.
• Stockholder in many others.

Appearance:


Biography: Lex Luthor was the son of billionaire business mogul Lionel Luthor. Lionel raised Lex in what some might consider an neglectful manner, his way of toughening him up for the real world. As a result, Lex never had anything one could consider a childhood except by age. Emotions were shunned, crying, trembling, or fear a weakness, and love considered a lie. Intelligence, the use of one's mind, was a man's greatest strength and most important tool. In keeping with this philosophy, Lionel had his son educated from an early age, the best private instructors in all subjects money could buy. It was through this that Lex's genius became apparent, eventually working through subjects, particularly in the sciences, that were over a decade ahead of where he should be were he a normal child.

The more success and progress he showed, the harder his father pushed him, throwing multiple real life tests, balancing a multimillion dollar company's account, managing a project with a too tight deadline, and more. Some at the same time, and others with his father actively working to make them more difficult. Nothing ever seemed to please the man. Eventually Lex, now a young man, realized he could run LuthorCorp much better than the old man, he deserved it, and with no guilt to speak of, began to plot his murder.

Lionel Luthor died with a shot to the head while his son was attending a charity event on the other side of the country. Staged evidence led to a homeless man that used to own what was now one of LuthorCorp's subsidiaries, who was later convicted and given the death penalty, with the judge on Lex's payroll.

His father's company he renamed LexCorp, after himself. Changing the corporate headquarters to Metropolis, Lex did his best to solidify a hold on most of the city over the next few years, including most of the local media, aside from the Daily Planet, which remained stubbornly out of reach. As it would happen, a years ago former acquaintance, as he Lex never had friends, even if he called them so, Clark Kent, would end up employed by the paper. He thought nothing of it however.

 

Peng told me that this looked good to him. So, how about that?

Name: Bartholomew Henry "Bart" Allen II
Alias: Flash
Age: Relative, all things considered. Physically: late 20s.
Abilities: Super-speed, connection to the Speed Force
Bio: Bartholomew Henry Allen II was born in the 30th century on Earth, to Don Allen and Carmen Johnson. When he was young, he suffered from a hyper-accelerated metabolism causing his body to age faster than his mind. Because of this, he appeared to be twelve years old, when he was two. To fix this, he was raised in a virtual reality where the simulated world kept pace with his own scale of time. However, when this didn’t work, his grandmother Iris Allen took him back in time to the 20th century. Bart’s cousin and then-current Flash, Wally West tricked Bart into an extreme burst of speed, which managed to fix his metabolism. Following a stint in the Teen Titans as Kid Flash, Bart took over the mantle of Flash when his cousin Wally retired.

 

Chimichanga Approved....

Name: Wade Wilson - AKA: Deadpool
Age: in reality 70, physically 30, mentality 4
Abilities:
Regenerative Healing Factor - Deadpool is able to heal from injuries such as slashes, puncture wounds, bullet wounds, and severe burns within moments. His healing factor is capable of re-growing missing limbs and organs and is able to recover being liquidated. His head or any other limb can be reattached using this ability, but has to be placed in the proper place
Foreign Chemical Resistance: Deadpool's body is highly resistant to most drugs and toxins.
Disease Immunity: The unique regenerative qualities of Deadpool's healing factor also extend to his immune system, rendering him immune to the effects of all known diseases and infections.
Extended Longevity: Deadpool's healing factor provides him with an extended lifespan by slowing the effects of the aging process to an unknown degree.
Telepathic Immunity: The healing factor causes his brain cells to be in a constant state of flux and regeneration, rendering him immune to psychics
Peak human Strength
Superhuman Stamina
Superhuman Agility
Superhuman Reflexes
Superhuman Speed
Master Martial Artist
Master Assassin
Skilled Linguist
Medium Awareness
Unpredictability
Appearance: 6’ 2” tall, 210 llb. Deadpool always wears a mask, most of the time it is red with black eyes. His costume is mostly red with some black on the weapon harnesses. If one was to look under the mask and costume they would find a man riddled with tumors and scars.

Personality: Extreme Attention deficit disorder, presenting Dissociative identity disorder with severe psychotic episodes, interspersed with violent outbursts and excessive sarcasm.

Equipment: Personal teleportation device. Multiple guns, knives, grenades, katanas, sharp stick, bit of gum, a paper clip and a yoyo.

Bio: Wade Wilson's early life is mostly unknown. His mother died of cancer while he was young and his father (who was in the military) was physically abusive. Wade was a delinquent in his teenage years, possibly to spite his father. After his father’s murder, He joined the military. His stint in the military was brief however and Wade began his mercenary career while still in his late teens. Accepting assassination jobs only against those whom he felt deserved death, he made a habit of using plastic surgery and technology to take on a new identity whenever he failed an assignment.
Little is known of Wilson’s subsequent mercenary activities. Years later after learning that he had contracted cancer, Wade joined a special weapons development branch of the Canadian government. Wilson became a test subject in Department K’s branch of the joint U.S./Canadian superhuman enhancement project, the Weapon X Program; his cancer was temporarily arrested via the implantation of a healing factor derived from another Department K agent, Wolverine.
Wades healing factor was specifically designed to replace his body’s cells as fast as they were being destroyed by his illness. While keeping his illness at bay, his healing abilities render his brain unreadable to telepaths, but its constant healing also makes him highly unstable and prone to violent outbursts without the slightest provocation, at least against those he knows could handle them.
During one mission, Wilson killed his teammate Slayback. As a result, he was rejected from the Weapon X Program and sent to the Hospice, allegedly a government facility where failed superhuman operatives were treated. After many attempts to kill himself, including trying to goad an employee into killing him, Wade decided he wanted to live, if only to have revenge on the same orderly he tempted to kill him when that man lobotomized the person closest to being Wade’s friend.
Wade escaped from the hospice with his fellow patients.
Wade has had run-ins with many superpowered individuals and almost every one of them agrees that he is most vexing.
Currently he is working as an assassin in New York, but acts more like a vigilantly, killing those he perceives need killing.

For a more complete Bio Click Here

 

Approved!

Name: Kal-El

Aliases: Superman, Clark Kent

Age: 35

Abilities: Super strength, speed, senses (telescopic vision, hearing, etc.), flight, x-ray vision, heat vision, all of which are susceptible to Kryptonite

Appearance:

Bio: "It is a remarkable dichotomy. In many ways, Clark is the most human of us all. Then... he shoots fire from the skies, and it is difficult not to think of him as a god. And how fortunate we all are that it does not occur to him." - Batman

 

Name: Bruce Banner
Alias: The Incredible Hulk
Age: 47
Abilities: Transformation from Bruce Banner to the Hulk.

• As Bruce Banner: Genius in nuclear physics, one of the smartest people on Earth.
• As The Hulk: Superhuman Strength, Superhuman Stamina, Superhuman Durability, Regenerative Healing Factor.

Appearance:



Bio: "All right, so I'm not the wisecracking super-type, like Spider-Man! Gamma rays gave me muscles, not a sense of humor!"

 

Just a heads-up that we'll be starting soon - just working on the OP now.

 

H E R O E S​

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Chapter 1: ​

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"The Man Who Sold the World"​

The Daily Planet had just been sold.

Of course, this was nothing out of the ordinary; the Jameson Media Group had been buying up all the papers it could, and owning the Planet would be quite the feather in its cap. J. Jonah Jameson, Jr., had personally seen to it that Perry White and his team would stay on board following the ownership transition.

In the meantime, things continued as usual for the Planet's employees.

In this case, it meant that Clark Kent, ace reporter with stomach ulcers like you wouldn't believe (according to him, at least), and Jimmy Olsen, wunderkind photographer and perpetual annoyer of Perry White, Editor-in-Chief, were at the latest Wayne Foundation fundraiser, this one in honour of Professor Charles Xavier, mutant rights activist. Lois Lane had of course tagged along as Clark's plus one, despite White's insistence she cover things elsewhere. "The hell I'm missing out on Wayne's big shindig for Chuck Xavier," had been her response, and that was that. "Plus one" was very much a token gesture, however.



Of course, the elephant in the room was that Erik Lensherr was there too. In his best behaviour, of course, the whole "militant mutants" thing in his (very recent) past. But Xavier seemed at ease with his old friend-and-or-enemy's presence, indeed glad for it, so that relaxed all present. Bruce Wayne seemed a little too at ease around the many supermodels, but that was Wayne, and he'd made at least three different passes at Lois in various ways, all a joke, of course, or so he wanted everyone to think. Bruce Wayne was at once a charming philanthropist, filled with poise and grace and gravitas, and a womanizing dilettante more interested in keeping up appearances. Though Lois complained, Clark was at least able to smirk at the irony. He and Bruce had a mutual respect known to very few.

Edward Nygma had recently been escorted from the premises by the police, a minor disturbance really, and one sure to make the rounds in Gotham's trashier publications. For the most part, though, it was a quiet but tense night.

All this was about to change.

Tag: Ramza Reynar_Tedros

***

Detective Harvey Bullock was not enjoying his evening.



The man seated before him in the interview room wore a fine suit of dark green, subtle but distinct. His hair was well-kept, almost slick, and the smile…the smile was the worst of all. Bullock felt that a few minutes alone, away from the camera, the two-rules, he'd wipe that smug smile off Edward Nygma's face.

"Eddie Nygma, what have you gotten yourself into this time? The Gotham Gallery's been robbed and what d'we find at the scene o' the crime but a big fat question mark."

Still the smile.

"What've you got to say for yourself?"

I hate this guy.

Tag: Ramza

***

Wade Wilson was not enjoying his evening.

Slade, his cousin, or something, or rival, or whatever, had shown up, and that always spelled trouble.

"C'mon out, Wade. I just wanna talk."

Of course, Deathstroke arriving to want to talk generally meant he'd try to either show off his sword or use it on you, so there was that concern at all times. Wade didn't really like the guy who may or may not have been related to him at some point.

Actually, came a voice in Wade's very crowded head, I'm pretty sure we stole that dude's name and or reputation so he really does have a point with that sword. Hah, point, sword, get it? But seriously, can we just kill him or something? I want burritos.

Then the bullets ripped into the shack Wade had been calling home in the middle of the Westchester, NY, countryside. He peeked out the window. The distinctive yellow on Slade Wilson's mask was visible half a kilometre away, along with the uniforms of a small company of mercenaries armed to the teeth.



Fantastic. I love it when I work up an appetite! Murder, then burritos?

"Let's make this easy, Wade. Come on out."

Tag: Splinterthemindseye_

***



A New York minute was an eternity for Bart Allen.

He'd been in the city for all of ten seconds and had already seen most of the sights and was honestly getting a little bored with following up leads for the Justice League, but such was life. Reports of mutated reptiles and lizards in the sewers were all too common, and yet the League had tasked him with investigating one of these reports. Apparently a few criminals had disappeared down there - who'd have thunk? - after a botched robbery.

The only lead he had to go on was that some dude with a hockey mask - one of the old ones - had chased after the robbers but had lost them after two blocks. To Bart, it seemed clear this was some rookie trying to get noticed by one of the bigger names in New York.

So when he saw some guy walking around with a hockey stick and mask but no skates in the middle of May, he was of course suspicious.

Casey Jones was his name, and though he'd clearly heard about the newly-established Spider-Man, he likely had his own reasons for wearing a mask and fighting injustice with his own brand of vigilantism. Raph and the others had mentored him well, teaching him as much as they could, and he felt ready. Hell, he had been ready before he'd met the boys and April and Splinter, this just helped him out.

And really, meeting the League, or the Avengers branch of the League…that would just be icing on the cake. Avengers sounds way more badass, anyways.

Tag: HanSolo29 Nick of Time

***

Bart and Casey weren't the only folks conducting business in New York at that moment, however.

Dr. Bruce Banner thought it was insane he had to meet a man of such esteem in such a location, given his proclivity for reacting poorly to stressful situations and aggressive actions. New York was not the best location - too populated, really, given his condition. To choose an upscale coffee shop was simply ludicrous in his eyes.

Of course, all this was intentional. There could be no mistake about it when the other party was Lex Luthor.



Unbeknownst to Banner, Luthor had a plan, as usual.

Outwardly, his plan was singular, secretive, and motivated by his vitriolic dislike for the alien. The Kryptonian. To be honest, for the most part, that was the plan - discredit the Man of Steel and prove that he had been right along, because he was right.

But this was a long term goal. Hiring Banner would surely produce some interesting results; he planned on feeding him a line about investigating the mysterious substance kryptonite, the only known (to a select few, of course) weakness that Superman possessed. After all, Dr. Banner was the world's expert on gamma radiation. All plausible enough - perhaps he'd get Banner to attempt synthesizing kryptonite; a futile effort, but an excellent bluff for the real plan.

Imagine the power Banner keeps hidden paired with human intellect. A true super man.

Tag: Yuul_Shamar Benjamin Bunny

 

Edward Nygma
When is a police officer like a farm animal?

What Detective Harvey Bullock would probably never guess was that Edward Nygma was immensely fond of him. There was just something so indescribably charming about this large, brutish half-wit - reeking, as he was always, of Jim Beam white label and Flor de Filipinas - attempting to intellectually outmaneuver what was, in Mr. Nygma's opinion, the greatest criminal intellect not invented by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The mental equivalent of David and Goliath if you took away the former's sling and gave the latter a gatling gun.

"What've you got to say for yourself?"

"Detective Bullock, please, I'm acutely aware of certain constitutional protections which mean that, on paper, I have nothing to say for myself whatsoever." He moved his right hand to his chin as if he had just remembered something incredibly amusing. "But, ah, supposing I was saying something for myself, I would probably say 'Well, Detective, the arrangement of the situation, such as you have described it to me, seems to provide me with no means, no modus operandi, and no motive.' I would then summarily gesture to this photograph you have presented to me of the crime scene. 'See here, Detective,' I would continue, 'you explain that this photograph was taken at 11:55 PM on the previous evening. You explain that this second photograph was taken at 12:01 AM that same night. During these six minutes, you expect me to believe that Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino's The Madonna with the Christ Child and Saint John the Baptist melted, revealing the question mark insignia in the second photograph.'

"I would chuckle slightly, and jokingly ask you: 'Ah, perhaps Raphael was fond of a good mystery? Question: when is a painter like a magnet? When he's drawn to something. Perhaps for Raphael it was the primal enigma itself. In any case,' I would resume a more serious track, 'I am forced to remind you that on the evening in question I was attending a shareholder's social meeting in Upper Manhattan, and my presence can be corroborated by many of the wealthiest men in the country: Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, Warren Buffet, Anthony Stark, the list could go on. In addition, really, Detective, I value the hard work and thorough research of the Gotham forensics department as much as the next citizen, but where is any corroborating evidence linking me to this incident? I'm sure you're aware that modern forensics technology is capable of extracting DNA evidence from the atmosphere itself? And yet you have found nothing placing me in the room of the scene of the crime nor on this...' I would move, then, to pick up this box here. 'Nor on this charming little bit of puzzle trickery. Which is apparently what you're using to implicate me in the first place, simply because of my fondness for logic puzzles?'

"I would now gesture in resignation. 'Surely a man must have a hobby, Detective?' I would ask. 'And of course, at no time have you ever explained why I would possibly want to steal a painting that, by estimates you have provided me in this very room, is worth approximately - and I'm high balling here - .5% of my net worth. Certainly a fortune on your salary, Detective, and that is why I have set up the E. Nygma Support Our Police Trust, precisely to remedy that problem. Why should I not use my talent and fortune to help out those who help us all? It's the least I can do. But I'm getting off track again.' I would finally cross my arms again. 'Question:' I would conclude. 'Why is this investigation like the martini your officers so rudely interrupted?'"

Nygma's grin widened as he waited a few moments in silence. "'It's very, very dry, Detective Bullock.'"

TAG: Penguinator

---

Jimmy Olsen
Wayne Party

Jimmy Olsen always had precisely one reaction to these sorts of large, socialite gatherings. It was consistent. It was reliable. It drove Perry White "up a goddamned wall."

"This is so freaking dull," he groaned, tugging at his collar. "How do you stand this nonsense, Clark? Surely you didn't join the Planet just to report on socialites standing around smugly, ready to- say, are those pre-wrapped sausages?"

The photographer grabbed a few and promptly devoured them, discreetly wiping his mouth on the inside of his shirt sleeve. "I take it back, this party is great. Rah, rah, mutant rights and all that. Verily, stalwart James is of the believers now, Sir Kent! Do you believe?"

His gaze strayed over to where Bruce Wayne was making a... well, Bruce Wayne of himself. The socialite was in a class of his own in terms of drunken shenanigans, enough so that even Olsen, who'd lived the whole of his life in Metropolis, was familiar with his chicanery. Still, Jimmy had to admit, give him that much money, stick him around that many gorgeous women... nature would take its course.

Jimmy Olsen: Billionaire Playboy! The only logical auxiliary career path if photojournalism didn't pan out. Made perfect sense.

TAG: Reynar_Tedros

 

Bart Allen
The Flash
New York

The trouble with being able to cross Manhattan in the blink of an eye might not be obvious to those who had never done it. It wasn’t that Bart missed the details, because his eyes had no problems keeping up with feet. But, when you can go anywhere almost instantly, you tend to do just that. Bart had seen the view of the city from the roof of every skyscraper in New York. He had seen every street, every alley and every sidewalk. It was probably enough to make a lesser man nauseous, but Bart was not a lesser man.

What he was, was annoyed. It wasn’t bad enough that he had been sent on what basically amounted to a schoolboy’s errand, but he also couldn’t even find what he was looking for. Surprisingly enough, finding one man, even a man wearing a hockey mask in broad daylight, was harder than it sounded. Bart cursed under his breath. But, in an instant, as if his prayers had been answered, he did just that. He yelled out, “Hey, you!”

Perhaps a little overzealous at finally finding his mark, Bart sprinted across the alleyway quick as a flash and stopped inches from the kid’s masked face. “Who are you, and what are you doing skulking around in a hockey outfit with no skates?”

Tag: HanSolo29, Penguinator

 

Deadpool (Aka: Wade Wilson)
Westchester, NY

Wade Wilson was having a great day.

Slade, the one-eyed Deadpool wannabe (Who would have thought that I could be a role model for the handicapped?), had shown up, and that always spelled fun.

“Let’s make this easy, Wade. Come on out.”

Leaning against the shacks wall, Wade flicked out his yoyo a couple of times.

“Nah. If I made this easy, then your guys wouldn't learn anything, and I wouldn't want to stunt the intellectual growth of your special ed class.”

You know if you piss him off more than he is he might just take offence. Wade cocked his head to the side slightly listening to the voice. Why don’t you reassure him that your not the psychopath he may think you are.

First off, it’s you’re not your. And secondly… I am a psychopath.

Well sure we know that, doesn’t necessarily mean he has to believe it, grammar Nazi. Why don’t you say something that might sooth his anger a bit maybe this can end in a non-violent parlay.

Where in the H E double hockey sticks did I pick you up at?

Come on it’ll at least throw him off.

Fine.

“Hey Slade, we’ve taken a vote over your offer. Its twelve Nays to your one Aye.”

Why do I even bother.

Masochism? .

Tag: Penguinator

 

IC: Lex Luthor
Coffee Shop, New York City

It had taken a lot of convincing, at least relative to his standards, but in the end he had managed. Before an hour was up, if all went well, he would have the next piece, the next pawn, in one of his more prominent plans. It was more like the plan if he were being honest. To show the world the Superman for what he was. Superman. That implied he was, in fact, a man, which was nothing more than the most simplistic of lies. He was an alien, a kryptonian, and everything he did, everyone he saved hurt the human race more than someone of the alien's mental caliber could realize without prompting. Certainly every person saved or thing done might even be seen to have a short term benefit, but in the long run, it harmed them. The more people relied on the so called Superman to save them and stop problems and crises the more they wandered away from the old standard, their greatest strength as a species, their minds, their minds and their adaptability. The human ability to adapt to necessity had been responsible for some of the greatest advances in human scientific history, but the more they relied on Superman and others like him the more they were in danger of losing these things and letting them stagnate as a race.

Of course, it wasn't his only reason for the plan, or his dislike if not hate of Superman, but it was the one that sounded most noble and thus the only one he would even consider telling others if asked. It painted him as something along the lines of the unsung hero of humanity, a champion defending the natural process and way of things. As the car, well limo actually, moved through the busy streets of New York City he thumbed through his copy of the Daily Planet, which he had someone pick up before he caught his private flight to New York. The other news outlets and papers based in Metropolis he didn't bother with, already owning them or controlling a certain percentage of stock, and besides, the paper was one of the better sources to keep apprised of the so called 'Man of Steel'. It rubbed him all the wrong ways that they had finally been sold, and not to him. He was fairly certain that he had offered at least twice as much for the newspaper than that blockhead Jameson. Now to be fair, though that was something he rarely was, he quite enjoyed the man's choice articles on the Spider, it presented a twisted enjoyment for him, but interfering with his goals was unacceptable. Patience would be required to deal with this.

He felt the limo slow to a stop and stay there this time. He looked up, meeting his driver's gaze in the rear view mirror with his own green eyed gaze. They were at their, well his, destination then, and five minutes early, excellent. Opening his door, the driver moved to let Mercy, his bodyguard, out first. A moment later he himself removed himself from the limo, straightening his suit and tie, though they remained immaculate. "Mercy, remain here, this shall be best done with just myself." She didn't look entirely happy at that, but she did as ordered as he himself entered the somewhat crowded coffee shop. Walking in an orderly fashion, yet giving the impression that he owned the place, which he did in a roundabout sort of way, he made his order, and didn't order what he knew to be Dr. Banner's favorite to avoid seeming like something akin to a spy. The man was brilliant, for most men. Nowhere near his own staggering intellect and cunning, but certainly possessing more knowledge and experience in the field of gamma radiation than he did.

Five minutes later, the man himself arrive, perfectly on time and looking suitably nervous. Excellent. Dr. Banner's attention would out of concern be focused on the people around him who remained blissfully unaware that they were sharing a room with a man who could tear apart the city if given the chance in his other form and mind. His eyes stayed on the man until Banner found him and made his way. "Welcome Dr. Banner, I am glad you decided to come, can I buy you a drink?" His best disarming smile on his face, a friendly expression perfected with all the others since his childhood if it could be called that, fixed upon his face as the other man nervously sat down.

Tag: Benjamin Bunny, Penguinator

 

IC: Bruce Banner
Coffee Shop, New York City

The entire walk here had been filled with doubt, and though the walk had not been far from the hotel he was staying in it seemed like an eternity. Being in New York was not pleasant for Bruce, and going into a crowded coffee shop even less so. Bad enough that there were people everywhere, but consider also that these were New Yorkers, they did not inspire a sense of calm in him.

Just the thought of what could go wrong put him on edge, though he had spent years finding ways to control his emotional state it could not be denied that he had little practical success in the endeavor. In the more recent past he has doubled his energy into finding a scientific solution to his problem, but time and again the big green guy would show up and ruin everything and he would be forced to start over.

After years of struggle, Bruce felt like his back was up against a wall. He had nowhere to go. Nobody trusted him, the big green guy had seen to that. It was at this time that he was contacted by the most unlikely person, one that prior to this Bruce would never have considered speaking with much less working with. Lex Luthor. Unscrupulous was a kind way of describing him. Though Bruce had no way of knowing about his villainous secret life, he didn't need to in order to have a well educated opinion of the man. That being said, Lex had immense resources and a deep interest in science. In a word, he was brilliant.

More importantly he was interested in working with Bruce. Though the details have not yet been revealed Bruce found himself curious, and the thought of being able to utilize the vast network provided by LexCorp excited him, Bruce knew that if he could strike the right deal he would start working for Mr. Luthor as soon as possible. The sooner he could resume his work on finding a cure to his "affliction" the better of he, and the world, would be.

As soon as Bruce walked into the crowded coffee shop he scanned the room, it didn't take long to find the person he was looking for. Mr. Luthor seemed sorely out of place here. Bald, distinguished, wearing a suit that cost thousands. In no other city than New York could someone like Lex Luthor sit anonymously in a coffee shop without being hounded by patrons or paparazzi.

As Bruce approached the table Mr. Luthor flashed a charming smile and asked "Welcome Dr. Banner, I am glad you decided to come, can I buy you a drink?" , and for as much as Bruce wanted to immediately dislike him he found it difficult. First impressions were important, and it was obvious that Mr. Luthor had perfected the art. Bruce returned the greeting with a nervous smile, "Thank you for inviting me Mr. Luthor, I will have an herbal tea." As he sat down he added with a sarcastic smirk, "It calms the nerves." Bruce felt a strong desire to jump right to business, he was too curious as to why someone like Lex Luthor would want to associate with Bruce Banner. There was too much to risk, the likelihood of the Hulk showing up was great, for LexCorp to be associated with him meant that there was something greater to be gained.

Tag: Penguinator, Yuul_Shamar

 

Clark Kent
Wayne Foundation fundraiser

Clark Kent didn't mind these sorts of gaudy gatherings as much as his colleagues at the Daily Planet seemed to. No one really looked forward to associating with the upper class of the wealthiest cities with nothing but a press badge to make them feel welcome. Clark didn't mind. It was a good opportunity to get closer to the world he called home. Or, at least, the world's trust fund.

This event in particular was an important one to Clark, and he'd made it clear to Perry White that he wished to attend. Charles Xavier was a man Clark greatly admired. A man who devoted his life to being a diligent proponent of equality for all, Mutant or otherwise. It was the American way, after all. Clark hoped that he'd get a chance to meet the man, but of course that was second in priority to getting a chance to speak with Bruce Wayne. It wasn't often they had a chance to interact outside of their "business meetings," and hopefully the conversation would move further from drunken admiration of Lois' hourglass figure.

Clark stood next to his companions from the Planet, Lois Lane on his left, Jimmy Olsen on his right. He had a glass of wine in his hand and gave the occasional smile and nod to passersby who couldn't differentiate him from any other reporter in the room, though he was a bit taller and well-built than most. He took a sip of wine and adjusted his glasses.

"This is so freaking dull," Jimmy groaned as he tugged on the collar of his shirt. The young photographer always looked uncomfortable in clothing that took more than a few seconds to throw on. Clark could relate. "How do you stand this nonsense, Clark? Surely you didn't join the Planet just to report on socialites standing around smugly, ready to-" His attention shifted. "-say, are those pre-wrapped sausages?"

Clark put his head down and laughed quietly as his friend scoffed down the food. "I take it back, this party is great. Rah, rah, mutant rights and all that. Verily, stalwart James is of the believers now, Sir Kent! Do you believe?"

Clark chuckled. "I do indeed, Sir Olsen. 'Tis a wondrous thing how a mere scrumptious piece of sausage can so drastically alter one's perceptions." Clark could feel Lois' eyes rolling behind him before he even responded. He wondered how long it would be before Bruce Wayne came around for another attempt at her affections. He was, after all, a very busy man.

Tag: Penguinator , Ramza

 

IC: Lex Luthor
Coffee Shop, New York City

"The pleasure is all mine, believe me." Luthor maintained his flawless casual expression, not even his eyes showing any sign of nervousness or fear at Dr. Banner's comment. Probably because none existed. Signalling a wait for what the Doctor desired he continued onward, undaunted. "Indeed it does, I myself occasionally have a cup after the more stressful days." His carefully managed expression threw in a tint of comradeship. "I must say Dr. Banner, I have been looking forward to meeting yourself in person for a while. I enjoyed your treatise on present and future uses and dangers of gamma radiation, both the original and the updated edition after your..." Appearing thoughtful. "...accident. It was quite insightful, something I admire." And he did, it was not something he needed to fake, he admired men of intelligence even if they did not reach his own levels. Men of the mind only further his belief and reasons that it was one of humanity's greatest gifts. Any oddness in the short pause during these thoughts was hidden by a perfectly timed arrival by the waiter with Dr. Banner's tea. An appreciative, faked, nod to the waiter gave all the dismissal the worker needed.

Taking a sip from his own order to slightly prolong his thinking process, not that he was all that thirsty, before sitting the cup back down. "I believe you to be a man who would rather get right into things, and if this belief of mine is misplaced, then you of course have my apologies." Looking the doctor in the eye, not of fear, challenge, nervousness, or anything similar, but instead of a sense of understanding. When people believed you understood at least slightly what they were going through, they did tend to open up more. "Let us cut to the chase, as they say. I am aware of your attempts to find a cure or solution to your situation, and how they have often ended in disaster, for one reason or another. Others find it hard to trust you, always worrying, never ceasing to worry, about the other side showing up. I am not so concerned, though perhaps some would say I ought to be. Instead I would welcome you, a man of the mind of your caliber. So I am making you an offer, one that I think you will find most difficult to pass up."

Letting the suspense build in the doctor for a moment as he took another sip of his order. He eyed the doctor carefully, never slipping from his assumed expression, save for the minute changes one might expect of any man. "There exist a great number of projects, ongoing or yet to be initiated, in LexCorp or one of our subsidiaries, that would be greatly benefited and expedited by your knowledge and experience. In exchange," And this was probably the part Dr. Banner was most anxiously waiting to hear. "You shall have access to any and all of LexCorp and its subsidiaries' resources to finding your cure, and whatever pet projects you deem to take on. You shall receive the salary equal to that of my top scientists, and finally, a lab built to your exacting stress free environment and technological standards in any one of a half dozen sites I have awaiting build plans. Any of which would be up in forty-eight hours at the most." A pause, to allow the doctor to take it all in, as he is sure he must. "I fully understand if you feel the need to take a few days to think about it of course, it must be quite the change." When, not if, the doctor said yes, though it may indeed take the few days offered to think it over, he could begin the next phase of getting the doctor hooked onto LexCorp, and subsequently his plans. The fragment of the substance labeled kryptonite, one of the smaller pieces he had, sat almost heavily in his pocket contained in a lead case.

Tag: Benjamin Bunny, Penguinator

 

OOC: Cameo at the end is with Peng's approval.

Jimmy Olsen
Wayne Party

"Can't disagree with that assessment," Jimmy replied, snapping a quick shot of... some ambassador or another. He didn't remember who or which countries were involved, but she was definitely an ambassador, that counted for something, right? Right. Wasn't his job to identify everyone in the photos anyway. That was usually Billingsley's line of work.

"I mean, I think if you were to arrange man's greatest inventions, in order, it'd go something like: the camera, sliced bread, the printing press, pre-wrapped sausages. Although as BNL correctly noted all the way back in '92 when dinosaurs walked the earth, they really ought to figure out pre-wrapped bacon one of these days."

Another quick snapshot, this time of... wait, crap, that was Erik Magnus Lensherr. Known terrorist. Not nice guy. Jimmy had had a run-in with him once before, and it had been... interesting, to say the least. Overall assessment: Awkward. "The hell's he doing here, anyway?" the photographer muttered, opting to follow-up with a picture of the Mayor of Gotham shaking hands with the Governor.

Which is precisely when his memory card ran out of storage space. "Note to self: 2 gigs, not enough when taking quadruples of every shot at a large event. Where'd I put that spare?" Jimmy rifled through his right pocket, his left pocket, his breast pocket, his camera bag's outer-most pocket, middle pocket, inner-most pocket... nothing.

... Oh, right, it's in my sock, duh. And without thinking, he lifted his left foot up to reach in, lost his balance, and promptly tumbled over onto another party-goer, a tall, buff, brown-haired fellow who was otherwise unremarkable save for the fact that he was wearing bright red sunglasses. At night.

Presumably so he could, so he could, so he could...

No time for references to Corey Hart, Olsen, you need to be courteous. "Er... sorry about that. I kind of got... carried away and uh... ... Great party, huh?"

TAG: Reynar_Tedros Penguinator

 

OOC: Great posts, guys - updates coming for all soon!

---

Scott Summers lent a hand to the young reporter stumbling around. "Hey, no trouble, don't sweat it. You covering this for the papers?"

He pointed to Jimmy's camera by way of explanation.

"You should get a shot of the professor, I'm sure he'd be happy to answer a few questions too."

His glance went between Jimmy and Clark. Before he could continue, Lois Lane spoke up. "We'd love to ask him a few questions - Lois Lane, I'm with the Planet in Metropolis, this is Clark Kent and Jimmy Olsen."

Scott nodded in greeting, a smile on his face. "I'm sure he'd love to answer those questions-" But even as he spoke, a stunning blonde woman walked - no, sidled - up next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Scott, darling, be a dear and have a word with Mr. Xorn, he's terrifying the trust funders with that mask."

She was looking over Clark's shoulder, but he got the funny sense she was looking through him, clinically and critically. He turned, following his gaze, to see a man with...something on his head standing amidst a group of very ill-at-ease dilettantes.



Scott smiled. "It's fine, Emma. I was just talking to these people about the professor, they'd like to get an interview with him."

Emma Frost rolled her eyes and began to walk towards Xorn. "Reporters. I'll take my chances with the rich and shallow, thank you."

His smile sheepish now, Scott shrugged. "I'm sorry, she's...yeah."

Tag: @Ramza Reynar_Tedros

 

Clark Kent
Wayne Party

Clark knew all too well how this Scott character felt. Emma seemed to be a strong willed woman, to a fault on occasion, and he had a feeling that this wasn't the first time the man in shades was the victim of her headstrong prerogative. It actually reminded him of a certain pair of reporters. Clark's eyes wandered over to Lois for a brief second, and he couldn't help but grin.

"No trouble at all, Scott," Clark extended his hand for the man to shake. "Say," he turned, his vision following Emma towards the man she called Xorn, "what's the story on him? The one in the mask?"

Tag: Penguinator , Ramza

 

IC: Bruce Banner
Coffee Shop, New York City

Bruce was not overly surprised that Lex had read his work on gamma radiation, most of the top scientific minds had at this point, probably the only good thing to come of the accident was that the entire world seemed to know his name and the basic nature of his work. Normally research into gamma radiation would go unnoticed, but it is hard to not notice a raging green giant who routinely tears apart cities, and always connected to those events was the name "Bruce Banner".​

​

Still, the admiration of a mind such as Lex Luthor was something to be proud of. Bruce, full of flaws and emotionally damaged as he was, was not immune to the effects of flattery. ​

​

He nodded gratefully as the waiter brought his tea, and immediately brought it closer to his nose to take a deep breath of the drink. It's warm herbal scent instantly relaxed him a bit, though too hot to yet drink he was grateful for the warm cup in his hand and the soothing aroma.​

Lex keenly identified Bruce's dislike of small talk, those kinds of conversations typically led to personal details that Bruce would rather not divulge. Most likely Lex was of a similar mindset, something Bruce was grateful for. People always seemed to want to talk to Bruce about how he felt, about the Hulk, or some other aspect of the accident or the years that followed. That was the last thing that Bruce wanted, science was about the only thing that allowed him to escape his reality. Lex's focus on business was refreshing.

After a few moments of silence Lex finally came to the point of their meeting, "There exist a great number of projects, ongoing or yet to be initiated, in LexCorp or one of our subsidiaries, that would be greatly benefited and expedited by your knowledge and experience. In exchange," Here it was, the tradeoff, "You shall have access to any and all of LexCorp and its subsidiaries' resources to finding your cure, and whatever pet projects you deem to take on. You shall receive the salary equal to that of my top scientists, and finally, a lab built to your exacting stress free environment and technological standards in any one of a half dozen sites I have awaiting build plans. Any of which would be up in forty-eight hours at the most." A pause, to allow the doctor to take it all in, as he is sure he must. "I fully understand if you feel the need to take a few days to think about it of course, it must be quite the change."

Bruce sat quietly for some time, took a sip of his tea now that it was drinkable. Finally he looked to Lex, "That isn't quite the offer I expected. At this point in my career, nobody comes to me and offers me a job like you just did unless they have something specific to gain from it." He paused for a moment hoping to catch a glimpse of Lex's inner thoughts through his facial expression, when none came he continued, "There are obvious risks that come with being associated with me, risks that could bankrupt even you." Taking another sip of his tea, Bruce continued. "My skill is focused on radiation, specifically gamma, and as of late I have thought of nothing more than how to de-power a monster of my own creation. That is a very narrow field of expertise, surely there are a handful of scientists that are useful to you that do not at the same time endanger LexCorp."

Bruce knew there was something more to this offer, and he would prefer to hear it now. He had been manipulated enough to know that he needed to protect the world from the Hulk, he needed to be careful or else people could get hurt. He had no problem helping Lex make billions based off his research, and he desperately wanted access to the network and equipment that could be provided by LexCorp. If he could be assured in some way that Lex was simply not seeking to use the Hulk for his own advantage, Bruce would agree this very moment to work for Lex. In fact, everything Bruce owned was in a single bag that was draped over the back of the chair he now sat in, he would leave with Lex today if he could just be sure that Lex would not manipulate him like others had, like his own government had.

Tag: Penguinator Yuul_Shamar

 

Bart Allen
The Flash
New York

"The name's Casey Jones and I hunt down punks like you."

This Casey was bold. To directly insult a stranger was already a questionable act, this being New York and all, but to insult a man in obvious super garb was a huge mistake. Had Bart been anyone with unsavory motives, Casey would have already been bloodied and on the ground. And, the fact that he didn’t recognize Bart was infuriating. He opened his mouth to yell, but was cut off by the masked man before him. "Although, you don't exactly fit the bill, Jimbo. What're you trying to prove? I have work to do."

What an ass. Bart crossed his arms, not bothering to brace himself if Casey swung his weapon. Bart could be a hundred yards away before Casey even got it above his head. Still, Bart couldn’t help but poke at him. “Why don’t you ease up on the stick there, Speed Racer?”

Bart turned to look around the alleyway. It was deserted. He glanced back at Casey, and said, “Before you get all upset again, I’m actually here to help you out. You were chasing some guys fleeing a robbery, right? I’m looking for them, too. So, if you would kindly divulge their last known whereabouts, we can be on our merry way.”

Bart spoke nearly as fast as he ran. Such is inevitable, when your brain races a mile a minute.

Tag: HanSolo29

 

Jimmy Olsen
Wayne Party

Well, as unfortunate tumbles went, this was probably one of the more fortunate ones.

... This was why he was a photographer. Jimmy shook the man's hand as he stood. "Yes sir! Jimmy Olsen with Metropolis' Daily Planet, at your service. I also do Bar Mitzvahs, Christmases, and Arbor Day shindigs, if you're interested. ... Seriously, are you interested? I could use some supplementary income, they just announced the Playstation 5 and you know how rent is in these big..."

"We'd love to ask him a few questions - Lois Lane, I'm with the Planet in Metropolis, this is Clark Kent and Jimmy Olsen."

That'd be Lois casually discarding anything he had said, per usual. The sun rose, set, rose again, and Lois Lane had selective hearing loss with regards to comments made by the cameraman. Would that he could get that sort of attention out of Perry White. "But Ms. Lane, I just... ... Yes. Journalism. Yay rah."

It was at about this moment he remembered he had not actually replaced his memory card in all of this confusion, so he did so. There was some talk about a... Chiorn? Zorn? It was roughly halfway between those two. Maybe Xorn. People around here seemed to be in love with their X's.

"I'm sorry, she's...yeah."

Gee whiz, Scott, no, I have no idea what that must be like. Ever the small-town gentleman with the soul of a reporter, Clark went in immediately for the handshake and follow-up question. "I dunno why people would have a beef with that mask," Jimmy observed. "Looks badass. Proper warrior garb, that."

TAG: Penguinator Reynar_Tedros