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Science Fiction HEROES: Tales to Astonish

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Penguinator, Feb 13, 2013.

Moderators: Penguinator, Ramza
  1. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    The Prison

    Things were...odd between Nightwing and Deadpool. Awkward, more like.

    Deadpool's usual brand of insanity didn't seem to faze Nightwing all that much; his concerns were greater. His emergency transmitter should have been working, and yet still no sign of Batman, Superman, even Robin.

    And Deathstroke was just watching them, sipping a cup of coffee. The mercenary leaned towards a console and thumbed the intercom.

    "Right. Boss doesn't want you dead just yet. But he figured he'd have some fun."

    He slurped loudly from the mug.

    "If you kill the other guy, you get to go free."

    Tag: @Splinterthemindseye_ @Lukes_Apprentice
  2. Reynar_Tedros Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jul 3, 2006
    star 6
    Superman
    The Watchtower

    So Black Adam had resurfaced and was now making Cairo his playground. As if the League didn't have enough on their plate.

    "Fantastic," Stark exclaimed. "Look, why don't you big guns go sort this out - Thor, uh, Superman - Batman and I will work on sorting out...whatever is going on here."

    Superman kept his arms crossed and his brow furrowed for another second or two, as a sort of "I better have answers when I get back" gesture. Then he turned on his heel and walked away from the assembled group of time traveling Mutants and superheroes and whatever else had made their way onto the Watchtower in the past half hour.

    "Thor," he called bluntly.

    Tag: @Ramza, @Penguinator
  3. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    Monterey Pop Festival, 1967

    "Rather loud, isn't it, Charles?" Erik Lensherr rubbed an ear, exiting the fairgrounds with his friend walking by his side. "Rather stimulating and exciting, though."

    Xavier smiled. "Very much so. I'm picking up quite a lot of positivity from the crowd - though you don't need to be a telepath to know that."

    As they left the fairgrounds, the crowd thinned. Their car sat down the road, the sounds of the festival drifting gently their way: laughter, cheers, talk, all pleasant and filled with joy. But their car was not alone; a black vehicle sat behind it, a man leaning on the hood, his suit dark, a fedora pulled over his eyes. Xavier sensed Erik's tension.

    <Easy, Erik. Let's see how this goes.>

    "Good afternoon!" Charles gave the man a nod. "Did you catch the show?"

    The man grunted. "No. You Chuck Xavier?"

    Erik's fists clenched. Charles paused, but kept the smile on his face. "I am. And you are?"

    The men reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a business card. "David Angar. I represent the Da Pista Foundation."

    Charles stepped forward to take the card, glanced at it, handed it to Erik. "We've heard of it."

    "Not much," added Erik, "but we've been approached before."

    "But not," came a voice from behind them, "by me. In person, that is."

    They turned. The man walking towards them was tall, his features vaguely middle eastern, a broad smile on his face. He carried himself proudly, gracefully. He wore a white shirt, the top most buttons undone, and a pair of jeans over fine boots. He extended a hand as he neared, clasping Erik's in both and shaking firmly, still smiling. He did the same with Xavier before clapping Angar on the shoulder.

    "Forgive me, gentlemen, I meant to be here when you arrived, but the festival - how exciting! Today's youth, eh? But where are my manners, I'm Damianos da Pista - I head the Foundation, and I'm very interested in working with the two of you."
  4. Yuul_Shamar Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 3, 2004
    star 4
    IC: Lex Luthor
    Print and Press Coffee Shop, NYC

    "But of course Dr. Banner." Lex replied, standing from his chair as well in a refined movement, only somewhat disrupted when his and the doctor's plans to leave were interrupted yet again, though as per usual the only negative emotion that truly showed on his face were those that he allowed, in this case a measuring glance at the Captain that seemed to find him lacking. He had expected something better from the world's first super soldier, but then again he was in the end just that, a soldier. Although, he supposed it did clear some things up. He had his suspicions, but the name Project Rebirth and Banner's original goals confirmed them. If it wasn't for the setting, that and the fact that he was a Luthor of course, he might have been somewhat more lenient, perhaps a gift basket later then? The somewhat faked smirk on his face became quite real, though there wasn't much of a difference, at the thought of that. Quite the way to rub it in, assuming things went his way of course at the moment, though they would in the end unless something much larger was brought down. Besides, this left him an opening.

    "Indeed Captain, indeed. I am afraid however, that none of what you just said has any meaning or importance... Unless, of course, you have been granted such authority as be able to give Dr. Banner access to that research data. This is without bringing up the government, whom you work for, and all it's 'secret' organizations, many of which have had less than stellar dealings with the Doctor in the past. Quite frankly Captain, it doesn't leave your offer in a good light." Glancing down at his watch as if checking the time for a moment he looks back up. "None of which is your fault personally of course." If it weren't for the Captain's well known black and white moral view of the world, Lex would have been most tempted to toss the man a recruitment offer.

    Tag: @Amatsu Mikaboshi, @Penguinator
  5. Jabba-wocky Chosen One

    Member Since:
    May 4, 2003
    star 8
    GM Coronated

    Name: King (Jonah Abelston)
    Age: 33
    Abilities: Considerable personal wealth and criminal network. Nano-assisted exo-suit/costume that amplifies user's physical performance to levels approaching super human.

    Appearance:
    [IMG]

    Biography: The roiling geo-politics of the twentieth century had supplied a quick route to vast wealth for those who were resourceful enough. Behind every revolutionary was the cadre of smugglers, arms dealers, and underworld operatives that kept their efforts viable. The best of these could make themselves useful even after the peace was won. The Ableston's were exactly such a group, and their young heir proved himself equally adept, personally scouting out a number of deals for the family.

    One such encounter led him to Ace, a failed attempt by the US government to weaponize a psychic of immense power. Desperate to escape, she imprinted his mind as she had dozens of others--only this time with deep-seated imperatives. He had a strong, long-standing interest in meta-humans. He was King, head of the Royal Flush Gang. And he wanted his daughter back.

    After some months, these motifs came to dominate Abelston's activities. They also brought him into the sphere of men like Lex Luthor, who had even greater plans.
  6. Ramza JC Head Admin and RPF Manager

    Administrator
    Member Since:
    Jul 13, 2008
    star 6
    Thor Odinson
    The Watchtower

    There was talk of time travel, and the involvement of Erik Lensherr, and men from times yet to come. The thunder god kept quiet, observing the proceedings with the eye of someone who had walked into a play at the commencement of the second act. He was boisterous, and a braggart, but he had no head for mysteries such as this. He had been asleep lo these many years. His joints ached for further battles. No mere terrorists - something tough, something that could fight back, something to cut his teeth on, something-

    The sound of an alarm interrupted this train of thought. Nearby monitoring stations flickered to life, centered on a burst of activity in northern Egypt - Cairo, to be precise.

    The figure was one the Thor recognized. Tony Stark's words confirmed it. Black Adam. A broad grin betrayed his thoughts. Ah, father, but thou dost spoil thy favorite son.

    "'Twould be an honor, Anthony! Surely 'twixt the Superman and myself the matter shall be dealt with posthaste!" He turned to follow the man of steel. "Odin willing, this next absence will be not so long as the preceding." A quick pace brought him up alongside his comrade - they were, presumably, headed back to the teleports. Truth be told, the Odinson had gotten so used to being James of Clan Olsen that walking alongside someone he idolized resulted in a somewhat bizarre sensation of mild apprehension. But then, "Jimmy Olsen" was not Thor, and he ultimately shrugged the feeling off.

    "Pray tell, Superman, have you done battle with this Black Adam in the past?" Thor knew the answer to that question, actually, James of Clan Olsen could rattle off key details about every superpowered foe the Kryptonian had fought, but Thor Odinson did not, and truth be told even James' staggering capacity for trivia was not without occasional hiccup. "His strength belies a devilish intellect. We would do well to make the most of our numerical advantage."

    TAG: @Reynar_Tedros @Penguinator
  7. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    Dubai
    Then

    "I'll cut to the chase, sir - your services are in demand. There aren't many thieves of your calibre operating in this day and age."

    The Burj Khalifa stood resplendent in the midday sun. They were on the 154th floor, as high as one could get while still enjoying the luxury the Burj had to offer. They had eaten beforehand, the meal delicious and lavish, and now it was time for business. Jonah Abelston sat and listened, and the man who had called himself Al'Shabah Al-Abyad gave him an offer.

    Al-Abyad was a unique man. Abelston got the impression that the reason his suit was white was to emphasize his pale complexion and white hair. The man was an albino. He smiled coyly as Abelston sat and listened.

    "I represent an individual in need of a man with your talents. Think of this assignment as an audition - my superior wishes to see how you perform, whether you live up to his exacting standards."

    Oppland, Norway
    Now

    It was cold.

    Al-Abyad hadn't been lying when he said finding the place would be a challenge, but there it was, a fortress nestled in Oppland's craggiest regions, hidden from view. The documents he'd been given gave a general layout - the centre of the fortress was essentially a private museum, filled with enough treasure to finance any man's most extravagant tastes. And all Al-Abyad wants is a spear.

    [IMG]

    The central chamber consisted of a grand hall, well-lit, except in the evening - hence the lateness of the hour, which made climbing mountains a royal pain - security inside would be minimal, but the perimeter was well-guarded and well-patrolled. The fortress was a well-kept secret, and very much on the "private army with little regard for law" side of things.

    There was one main entrance accessible by foot, heavily guarded and boasting a massive gate on an independent power source. The helipad was armed to teeth, too, but there was one ventilation duct some 500 metres from the main compound itself. It would mean traversing half a kilometre of the complex from the inside, but that was part of the challenge.

    And all this - all this! - for a spear.

    Tag: @Jabba-wocky

    All for a spear.
  8. Reynar_Tedros Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jul 3, 2006
    star 6
    Superman
    The Watchtower

    "Pray tell, Superman, have you done battle with this Black Adam in the past?" Thor asked as he walked alongside Superman to await teleportation to Cairo. "His strength belies a devilish intellect. We would do well to make the most of our numerical advantage."

    "Yes, I have. And you're right." Superman continued to walk with a purpose, his footsteps echoing, his brow furrowed as he struggled to shake the questionable tactics of the League from his mind. Even his voice was more curt and direct than usual.

    The Kryptonian thought back to his first and only encounter with Black Adam, when he was immobilized by his opponent's magic and likely would have lost the battle if not for Captain Marvel's timely intervention. He looked over at Thor, and knew that the Thunder God would be the key in this fight. "He's a lot like me, actually," Superman walked on. "Only less cheerful." There was an ever so slight hint of humor in those words.

    Tag: @Penguinator, @Ramza
  9. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    The Print and Press, NYC

    Rogers sighed. "I can see there's little I can do to convince you, Dr. Banner. Heck, I'd find it hard to argue with Mr. Luthor's charisma in your position. You change your mind, we'll be waiting."

    He handed Banner a business card with a number on it, nothing more. "Give us a call."

    Rogers shook both men's hands, the smile still on his face. "But you should know - I'm loyal to nothing, except the Dream."

    And with that he was off. The observation team would keep close watch on the coffee shop for two hours after, but it wasn't necessary. In Rogers' mind, the seed had been planted. Banner was still a good man, and perhaps Luthor would be shaken by the encounter. Unlikely, but he could hope.

    ...

    Luthor's phone vibrated in his pocket. On the screen was a notification from a private number - one he'd heard from before - about an unread text message.

    It read: we have business to discuss - bring banner - your office

    Tag: @Yuul_Shamar @Mikaboshi
  10. Jabba-wocky Chosen One

    Member Since:
    May 4, 2003
    star 8
    King
    Oppland, Norway

    The stabbing in his right shoulder was growing more insistent. He shifted only slightly, bracing more with his forearm and ankle to compensate. It didn't change the fact that at this point, even his own body was yelling at him to do the obvious thing and move forward. Perhaps it was the few hours of rock climbing that had preceded. Or that rather than letting the rubbery muscles stretched out afterwards, he'd crammed them inside ductwork he didn't quite fit.

    He'd ignore it regardless. Necessity could always outweigh desire. He needed this spear. He needed to stay still. When he took it, someone would need to respond. And that would play into his employer's hands. Or perhaps it was the mere demonstration of insecurity that was needed. Ultimately, the one who could puzzle through all that would control all the other players. But Jonah wasn't interested in that. He didn't need to be.

    The hum of central heating kicked in again. Louder than his train of thought. Louder than his clambering through the ventilation. He crept froward again, trying to feel his way towards the heart of the facility.

    TAG: @Penguinator
    Last edited by Jabba-wocky, Apr 17, 2013
  11. Reynar_Tedros Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jul 3, 2006
    star 6
    GM Approved!

    Name: Raven Darkhölme

    Alias: Mystique

    Age: 100+ years

    Abilities: Shapeshifting, able to alter her appearance and voice at will to fit that of any human being she's encountered. Also, her body heals at a faster rate than normal, and roughly a century of experience has made her a master combatant, thief, and assassin.

    Natural Appearance:
    [IMG]

    Bio: Mystique
  12. Ramza JC Head Admin and RPF Manager

    Administrator
    Member Since:
    Jul 13, 2008
    star 6
    Penguinator Approved

    "Right, now if you can just fill out this form, we'll be all set."

    "… How exactly am I supposed to 'fill out this form,' out of curiosity?"

    "Just answer the questions and I'll pencil in your responses."

    "Fine."

    Name: Matthew Murdock "Attorney at law."
    Alias: Dared- "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait, what?"

    "Mr. Murdock, it's a matter of public record th-"

    "I'm not Daredevil."

    "… Mr. Murdock…"

    "I'm not."

    "… Very well."

    Age: 29
    Abilities: Enhanced radar sense, martial arts training, acrobatic prow- "Where the hell are you getting any of this?"

    "We have our sources."

    "I don't have any abilities, I'm just a blind man. And you're apparently making a farce out of this."

    "Let's just move on."

    Appearance:
    [IMG]

    "Oh for crying out - look, for the last time:
    [IMG]

    Biography: Blinded in chemical spill at a young age. Prodigious law student. Currently a partner in Nelson & Murdock law firm. Not the costumed vigilante known as Daredevil.

    "Thank you."
  13. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    Cairo, Egypt

    Matter transference physics and general disorientation aside, the Watchtower's teleportation systems were generally a very comfortable experience. Going from climate-controlled bliss on the League's headquarters to the cold of the arctic or heat of a desert, however, was anything but.

    It was 100 degree weather that Thor and Superman 'ported in to. The sun beat down on them, high in the sky, not a cloud in sight.

    Stark's voice came in over their comms. "All right, welcome to Cairo. Bats is off dealing with the situation here, so hopefully we'll have some answers when you're done here."

    An explosion in the sky above Cairo rang out. Attack helicopters were manoeuvring frantically around a figure that swooped between them with ease - Black Adam.

    "Do you think he's-"

    "THOR! SUPERMAN!"

    "-noticed you? Nevermind."

    Black Adam abandoned his assault on the helicopters and beelined straight for the heroes.

    Tag: @Ramza @Reynar_Tedros
  14. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    Oppland, Norway

    As King crawled through the ducts of the facility, he was able to catch snippets of conversation from rooms below.

    "...your shift starts..."

    "...second hallway..."

    "...fresh pot of coffee?"

    "..atch you sleepi..."

    "...the Great One is returning soon..."

    There was one voice that stood out, however. As he crawled deeper into the structure, he passed over a series of vents over a large room. From below him, a low, baritone, commanding voice came.

    "...this bores me, my dear, immensely. What say we kill the time together?"

    Another male voice gave a snort of disgust. A female voice answered the question. "I think not, Vandal. Your innuendoes are dreary and insulting. No more."

    King peered down through the vent but the figures remained out of his eye line. Vandal laughed. "I jest, my dear. Your father would have my head-"

    "I'd have your head. He'd bury you when he returns - within the hour."

    "You'd try. Many have." A sigh. "Well. Has Dusan returned from the Emirates?"

    "This morning, yes. He'll be joining us for dinner."

    King registered this exchange for future reference. The facility would be bustling with activity within the hour; he only had so much time to grab the spear and get out. The mention of the Emirates nagged at his mind. What was going on?

    Tag: @Jabba-wocky
  15. Jabba-wocky Chosen One

    Member Since:
    May 4, 2003
    star 8
    King
    Oppland, Norway

    There were only a limited number of security protocols. Even the custom builds were mostly derivative of more standard products. Added complexity was always superstructural rather than baseline redesign. Jonah relied on this fact. It's what made surveillance systems hackable. And indeed, this one was. Just not to him. To the Royal Flush Gang, yes. But, as he was ever reminded, he alone was far from whole. A king with no troops to command. He watched in vain as another attempt failed, and wondered if it wasn't because he'd spent as much time looking at the dwindling countdown clock in the corner of his left eye as he had the things he was typing. There really wasn't even time to repeat the process and find out. As things stood, then, he couldn't find a backdoor, designate himself an administrator, or place the system in test diagnostics mode.

    In his brief foray into this world, he was learning things. If it's operational principle was necessity, the operative emotions were bravado and paranoia. He'd felt the latter earlier, when he'd heard those conversations. But fundamentally, both turned on assumptions. One dueled with them. That, for instance, the gallery was more a display of wealth than a functional living space, allowing him the time to work. That the owner was cultured enough to preserve the artifacts he acquired. Thus, the hermetically sealed glass display case standing a head taller than him. That it would be well defended. The web of lasers that revealed themselves one he jury-rigged halogens into the display's environment testified to his rightness there. That the geometric glass etchings obscured the wiring of an internal security system. A system keyed to a hand-print, his PDA's interrogation had revealed. Judging by the height of the likely print reader, and the pattern of the lasers, there was one further guess he could make.

    But it was irrelevant. Meaningless because, at the moment, he was left naked by his own unguarded assumptions. He surveyed the scene in front of him. The exposed access panels, at the base of the display, the re-worked heating control, the PDA link-up. All of it, turning on the belief that he could actually make it work. A belief that now proved false. He couldn't open the case in the intended way, and any other would sound the general alarms. Only minutes were left now before the whole facility came to life again anyway. So he needed a new assumption. His eyes drifted back to the environmental controls. A moment later, he was tearing violently at the gas canisters he'd hooked in. Soon enough, he was rewarded with a faint, steady hissing. Leak. He double-checked the results on his PDA. Maintenance and security programming was wedded at the end user point, if not at the their respective master controls. Triggering one alarm, he'd de-powered the other. Or at least, opened the window for it in his coding. That took a few more minutes of typing to realize. But then it was done. He only had to hope the janitorial staff was more lax than security, and that no one was checking the resultantly flagged video feed. He'd find out in a few minutes.

    It was superstitious to pause for a beat; all the alarms would be silent. Jonah did so anyway. Then he pressed his palm to the empty space in the center of the display case's front panel. With only the slightest nudge, it slid easily sideways. A click followed, probably the end of the sliding mechanism. Jonah's jerked back anyway, suspicious. Nothing. Meanwhile, the sealed environment of the display started to diffuse. There was no time to investigate further. So, carefully, he turned back to face the display, and started snaking his around the fading red security lasers, and towards the shaft of the spear. He couldn't afford to think about being surrounded. He couldn't afford to exhale. His memory had to hold where his halogens didn't anymore. His fingers brushed against metal. He grasped it up, then made the last of his assumptions. Nothing happened when he pulled it out and set it on the ground. The dozen laser beams never tripped. The case was not simply made for display, but for anticipated handling. The final security field disappeared when the weight of the artifact no longer registered. He toggled his escape craft to head in, then shuddered with relief. Mission accomplished.

    He was transferring the contents into his carrying case when his legs came out from under him. A steely grip caught him. Jonah ignored the whispered threat to start struggling. He arced his back, hitting his captor with the force he could build up over a few centimeters. The result was at least as mentally as physically stunning for his assailant. It shouldn't have registered as anything in a normal person. But the fingers digging into Jonah's arms slackened perceptibly. Nothing else was needed. He pushed off and broke free. Jonah spun on his heels, his fist connecting solidly with the now-overextended guard's jaw. And now surprise reversed, when he staggered back much less than a normal man should. But the adrenaline surge was too much for him to register that as a separate fact. It had kept him on the man, desperate. Had drawn his sword, and plunged it into his gut just as the guard has raised his head to see this second charge.

    Fluke. One man was not a response team. But he'd radioed before acting.

    Thick titanium plating had already slammed down over the floor-to-ceiling windows. Similar barriers were coming down over the doors. It explained the lack of guns, anyway. Keeping their artifacts intact was more of a challenge than catching thieves. Jonah scooped up his sword and bounty, resheathing the one and slinging the other over his shoulder as he took off running. He closed the distance to the far side of the room, ducking but still on his feet. The next gallery was too long and the door too far closed to repeat that stroke of fortune. He bit his lip and pushed harder, diving over the threshold then scrambling to his feet as the locks behind him clicked into place.

    The next door was lower still. But not closed. And that only made sense if he was being herded. Neither backwards were forward were options. Nor, really, was slowing down. So there was just bravado and paranoia: only those two emotions. But the latter could be grounded. Living the darkest fears edged out all room for the imagination. Which only left one to compensate spectacularly with the former. The head of the Royal Flush Gang veered sharply towards the still shielded windows. Or more precisely, to the wall space just a few feet beside one of them.

    Performance amplification boosted to maximum. His arms flew up in a fit of protective instinct, and still running at full speed, King plowed into the wall ahead. The next few moments would stretch progressively in his memory. His forearms stung in a way that gave no immediate clue to what happened. His lungs caught fire when impact took the wind out of him at the same moment a mixture of insulation and sheet rock dust demanded he cough. For a quarter second, it seems like he was hanging in the air. The warped, bloodstained support beam left behind was the only proof that hadn't been a figment of his imagination. Then he tumbled, gravity giving back all the momentum he'd lost. Debris in front of him pattered, debris beside him salted the new gash in his left shoulder.

    He rolled twice, catching himself before he went over the ledge, though his vision would take some minutes to catch up with that fact. He pounced to his feet anyway. His spring developed a dangerous totter. What started as a dive decayed into collapse. He skidded onto his hoverboard. Sound was his guide: the familiar hum of the repulsor engine, the shrill ringing in his ears, and the roar of choppers behind him, engaging for pursuit.

    TAG: @Penguinator
    Last edited by Jabba-wocky, Apr 22, 2013
    Penguinator likes this.
  16. Lukes_Apprentice Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Oct 15, 2008
    star 3
    OOC: This is combined with contributions by me and @Splinterthemindseye_
    IC: Darkwing and Deadpool

    "Right. Boss doesn't want you dead just yet. But he figured he'd have some fun."

    Wade watched Slade as he made a show out of acting casual.

    "If you kill the other guy, you get to go free."

    Wade was surprised. Not by the offer, they always made that kind of offer, but that Slade would deliver it… that was the surprise. His estimation of Slade dropped just a couple of notches. Wade dragged a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and started packing them.

    “Slade, I am genuinely hurt that you think so little of me.”

    Wade snapped open his lighter and lit his cigarette.

    “To think I would fall for an offer as transparent as that. I’m psychotic, not stupid.”

    Pool pushed off from the wall he was leaning against and uncrossed his arms. He took a drag from the cigarette and then crushed it under his boot heel, blowing the smoke out from his nostrils. He looked from Slade to Nightwing back to Slade.

    “Then again, I am board.”

    Pool started towards his masked cellmate.

    Nightwing thought for a moment then realized what his cellmate was doing.

    Then Nightwing jumped in carefully tring to make look good, but making sure that he would not hurt himself too much.

    Nightwing used his acrobatic skills to pin deadpool to wall, but also to get in close as so he could whisper his ingenious plan.

    "Listen closely," he whispered, "have a way out, but somebody has to fake their death. I have a substance I hid that will make it look like one of us is dead. So do you want to be the volunteer?"

    Pool twisted, letting his shoulder drop, and pushed off with his feet. In a blink of an eye their roles were reversed, and Pool pinned Nightwing against the opposite wall.

    “My boy, you’ve got it all wrong.”

    Pool palmed the vial Nightwing had produced.

    “I intend to kill you and then I intend to kill Slade.”

    Pool winked at Nightwing. Hopefully the kid got the hint.


    "Not if have anything to say about it you won't that is my job and to dyeing think again," said Nightwing.

    Nightwing used what little leverage he had to free an arm and grab deathpool and using the box as leverage flipped both of them causing the roles to be switched again.

    This time to make it look good he threw a modified sidekick to the mid-section of death pool
    This time to make it look good he threw a modified sidekick to Deadpool’s mid-section.

    Pool staggered a bit. The kick could have been much worse, but he used the attack as an excuse to double over for a second and back up. While down there he surreptitiously put the vial in his mouth. He straightened and charged Nightwing. Pool lashed out with his right foot aiming at his head, and intentionally missing.

    “Time to die Wing Boy, I promise it will only hurt for a minute or so.” Pool advanced on Nightwing ready for the final act.

    Nightwing analyzed the space he had and waited and when deadpool was a foot away he jumped acrobatically right on top of his shoulders and used his weight to bring both of them down and using the built up momentum he basically his foot to the back of deadpools back and it cracked.

    They hit the bottom of the cell and Nightwing had given him a nice chiropractic back straightening but the way had positioned it made it look like he had snapped his neck and if that concoction of his worked deadpool should be out right now and he lay there completely immobile.
    “Slade you low life I going to feed you to the sharks you hear me now let me out unless you are scared,” said Nightwing.

    Nightwing acted like we checking for pulse when in fact he was checking that deadpool looked dead and read on moniors as dead, but he also through a slight of hand delivered a wake up serum.

    Nightwing stood up and said, “He is dead are you happy?”

    TAG:
    @Penguinator, @Splinterthemindseye_
  17. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan

    Matt Murdock's head swam with the noises pouring in from the open window in his bedroom. The bustle of Hell's Kitchen was appropriately demonic for a hungover man with senses as heightened as Matt's. His skull ached, so he pulled the pillow over it, hoping that if nothing else, he could smother himself out of this misery.

    No such luck.

    The alarm went off. His arm reached across the bed for it, and he realized he wasn't alone. How much did I - what happened last night?

    "Morning, uh, Matt."

    Matt sat up. "Huh?"

    Mystique - Raven Darkholme - was in bed with him. Thankfully, they were still mostly clothed from the night before - Matt in his awful "I'M NOT DAREDEVIL" shirt, slacks in need of an iron; Mystique in her natural blue skin, a black dress still on, her heels tossed on the floor.

    "Oh. Right. We didn't-"

    "No. I don't - I remember Dancing Queen came on and then we danced, and then there were shots, and then..."

    Then Matt realized his Daredevil outfit was hanging in the closet. "Crap." His phone started to ring. "It's Foggy's phone, I swear." He answered. "Foggy! ...hi. Kind of awkward timing-"

    Then a voice from out the window. "Yo Double D! Thought we were grabbing bagels, man!"

    A figure landed on the windowsill.

    [IMG]

    "I mean I know you had that party, man, but unless you brought a serious babe home-" Spider-Man looked up and froze. "Whoa, Mystique?"
    Tag: @Ramza @Reynar_Tedros
  18. Ramza JC Head Admin and RPF Manager

    Administrator
    Member Since:
    Jul 13, 2008
    star 6
    Thor Odinson
    Cairo, Egypt

    The God of Thunder, being accustomed as he was to the moderate climes of Asgard, and on occasion the frozen wastes of Jotunheim, was not tremendously keen on the heat of their new venue, but, on the other hand, it was downright frigid compared to the time he had battled Surtur to a standstill. The Midgardians could make do, and so could he.

    Not that he had much time to dwell on these thoughts - between Anthony of Clan Stark's observations and, more pressingly, the muscled, black-clad demigod who was bearing down upon the Odinson and his erstwhile compatriot, the Superman, there was little time for dwelling on any thoughts. The time had come for action.

    He hoped no one noticed the grin on his face.

    "THOR! SUPERMAN!"

    "Black Adam! Thou wilt cease thine assault upon these Midgardians posthaste!" He began to whirl his hammer, faster and faster, all movements between the three combatants occurring in the span of milliseconds. "I shall take the frontal position," Thor informed the Man of Steel, and the hammer was thrown, the grip caught. Into the air he flew, and with a roar like a great storm aborning, Thor Odinson streaked towards his opponent.

    TAG: @Reynar_Tedros, @Penguinator



    Matt Murdock
    Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan


    Matt Murdock, who was definitely not Daredevil, had come to the conclusion that he needed approximately all of the aspirin. All of it. Accept no substitutes. Mostly because acetaminophen on top of a bender can kill you.

    You see, like any man, Mr. Murdock was susceptible to the common hangover. Unlike most men, Mr. Murdock has heighten super-senses. Enhanced hearing. Hypersensitive touch. Superior olfactory capabilities. Better than average taste - in food, at least. Radar sense. And like most men, Mr. Murdock's susceptibility to the former increased the sensitivity of the latter, amplified though they were in his case.

    End result?

    Too much.

    "Look here, you... mysterious costumed vigilante I sometimes get bagels with but do not know, I... damn, will somebody shut off that @#$%ing car alarm?!"

    There was no car alarm to be heard. The car was blocks away, drowned out by the average morning noise one encountered in New York.

    Enhanced hearing.

    "Foggy, I'll call you back," he informed his cellphone, which was still ringing, because, as it turned out, he hadn't opened it that first time. He opened it. Vanilla Ice stopped playing. "Foggy, I'll call you back," he muttered. He closed the phone. Vanilla Ice continued to be stopped, but his ears were ringing.

    Enhanced hearing.

    "Seriously, Hombre Araña, what have I told you about the apartment? Even on bagel days? Especially on bagel days? And it's not what it looks like - we didn't... at least, I think we didn't..."

    Since Matt Murdock was blind, he didn't turn to stare at Mystique, but instead sort of adjusted his radar sense to "look" at her. "Right, we just agreed on that. Didn't."

    Radar sense was still in hyperdrive. Out in the hallway there were apparently two people walking by, on their way to the outside stairwell. Which would lead them right-

    "Inside. Now." He pointed at the wall.

    Radar sense was still in hyperdrive. He adjusted, pointed now at Spider-Man. "Inside. Now."

    Across the street a man who had eaten too much for breakfast was- oh no. Oh no.

    Superior olfactory capabilities.

    TAG: @Reynar_Tedros, @Penguinator
    Penguinator likes this.
  19. Reynar_Tedros Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jul 3, 2006
    star 6
    Superman
    Cairo, Egypt

    Thor surged towards Black Adam first, a roar of thunder trailing in his wake. The bright yellow sun shone down on Superman, and he closed his eyes, clenched his fist.

    Black Adam was no pushover. Even with Captain Marvel's help in their last encounter, Superman was still nearly bested by the villain. It wasn't often the Kryptonian got butterflies before a fight, but this was about as close as he'd come in a while.

    He opened his eyes, glared at Adam, and then took off behind Thor. Superman narrowed his brow as his eyes heated up into a glowing red, and he sent a blast of heat vision directly at the golden lightning bolt emblazoned on their opponent's torso. He intended it to be a weakening blow before Thor inevitably collided with him in a great crash of godly proportions.

    The battle had begun.

    Tag: @Penguinator, @Ramza
  20. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    The Prison

    Slade frowned. "What are you, dense? Are you idiots, or something? I'm Deathstroke the freakin' Terminator!" He slammed his fist on a button on the console in front of him. A current shot through the floor, shocking both men. Deadpool's false death was made apparent as he let out a cry of pain. Nightwing collapsed next to him, a similar vocalization having been made.

    "Idiots. You're both good, but I can tell a pulled punch from a mile off, even with the one eye."

    A scientist next to to Slade coughed politely. "Mr. Wilson, please. All this data is valuable, the deceptions, the ruses, et cetera; we can learn from this, we can further the research."

    Slade turned to face the scientist - Dr. Maya Hansen - a scowl still on his face. "This isn't how we create weapons, Doctor. Tell Killian that. I've done my job, I've no taste for this. You need me for the training, I'll be in my quarters." He stormed out. Hansen sighed, then turned to face the prisoners below.

    "I'm very sorry, gentlemen, it's apparent Mr. Wilson's approach is getting us nowhere. We want to observe and understand the pair of you, what makes you tick, what...gifts you have to offer. We've been monitoring you for quite some time. And we need your help to create the ultimate weapon."

    A thought crossed the mind of both Deadpool and Nightwing: She's nuts.

    Tag: @Splinterthemindseye_ @Lukes_Apprentice
  21. Lukes_Apprentice Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Oct 15, 2008
    star 3
    IC: Darkwing
    The Prison

    Look at the scientist and almost laughed, but thought better of it. Darkwing thought of all those bad guys out there that would jump at the chance to help these scientist and they pick two heroes or least the thought Deadlpool was one.

    He looked over at an awake and frazzled deadpool.

    Then Darkwing turned on the charm, "Well seeing as your previous method did not work doctor. Why not just let me out for a chat. I promise I will not play any games. I assure you I am well known for being an out the box thinker perhaps I can help you with you project. This small space does not help with my thinking processes and I must admit I'm intrigued, so what do you say?"

    Little did the doctor realize Darkwing was going to use her own wits against her and extricate himself and deadpool from the prison one way or another.

    Tag: @Splinterthemindseye_, @Penguinator
  22. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    Cairo

    As battle was met, two figures looked on and observed.

    "Tell me, herald, this is a common occurrence here?"

    "Indeed. Forces of order and chaos, constantly at play, constantly in conflict."

    "I shall observe, but we will remain unseen."

    The herald scoffed. "This is not the way of Galactus, this hiding."

    "Not hiding. Watching, waiting - learning. This may not be the way of Galactus, but it is the way of my master."

    "Your master should strike now."

    "Soon, herald. Soon. When my master strikes, it will be with a thousand fists. When he speaks, it will be with a thousand voices. The world shall know the will that is my master - the will that is Darkseid.I"

    ***

    Mjolnir struck Black Adam with the force imbued in it by the Allfather; he spiralled in the air, regaining his composure, and sent a bolt of lightning towards Thor. "Do not interfere, Asgardian! You know naught of this matter - begone!"

    Superman's heat vision struck Adam in the chest, breaking off his attack on Thor. Adam snarled in fury. "And you! Must I remind you of the pain you experienced at my hands?" The lightning came from Adam's outstretched hands and collided with Superman's own insignia. The man of steel felt pain, but unlike their last encounter, was well aware of the power Adam bore.

    "Have at you, then!" Adam swooped away from the melee, towards the helicopters he had been assaulting and grabbed one from the air, striking off the rotor. "Catch, fools!" With a mighty heave, he flung the helicopter at the duo.

    Tag: @Ramza @Reynar_Tedros
  23. Penguinator RPF Modinator and Batmanager

    Manager
    Member Since:
    May 23, 2005
    star 5
    Oppland, Norway

    They were on his tail.

    The chase wasn't far from over; really, the only thing that was left was the inevitable showdown, and that wouldn't last long either, in all likelihood. Still, King wasn't one to give up easily, and he still had a number of tricks up his sleeve. The key to success was so often in the preparation, and he'd prepared for most inevitabilities within reason. Still, a few things were restless in the back of his mind. The voice - Vandal - mentioning the Emirates, where he had just been.

    Something wasn't entirely right.

    His internal comm system alerted him to an incoming transmission from Al'Shabah Al-Abyad. Al-Abyad had given him access to a private, secure line, and had also insisted on staying up-to-the-minute with the job.

    "Mr. Abelston - well done, well done, indeed."

    The helicopters swooped overhead; King swerved into a small ravine, doubling around.

    "Very impressive. I understand this is likely a poor moment, but I must admit, you've excelled - and I'm doubling your fee."

    Tag: @Jabba-wocky
  24. Jabba-wocky Chosen One

    Member Since:
    May 4, 2003
    star 8
    King
    Oppland, Norway
    Then & Now

    King lifted up out of his defensive crouch. The grenades were gone. Only a few hundred yards more until he was outside the walls of the compound proper. There was a thunderclap from the right: second floor balcony. It was a shot just premature of the moment when he'd come perfectly into their line of fire. He wheeled around to face two men with bolt action rifles and another readying a mortar. He drew his sword as rifles raised. Eight eyes narrowed. Roaring, King pitched forward.

    He charged across the open tarmac. In part because it was cold, and in part because his face was exposed. That besides, his dress shirt already stuck as much to his fresh bandages as it would to sweat. Another sheath of it came down just then, as if to prove his point. Perhaps it was a sign of relief, or perhaps some lurking danger only his subconscious had accounted for. Regardless, he dropped the duffel containing his suit and the case containing the spear. He'd have time to sort through everything now. He fell into an open seat as the intercom crackled to life.

    “I'm doubling your fee,” Al-Abyad said.

    “Save it for the meet,” King hissed, diving hard into the ravine. That was the last person he wanted to talk to at the moment. The last conversation he could afford.

    The last statement was unfortunately literal. He let the microchip rest on his index finger, crippling his suit for a final assurance that he wasn't being tracked. Normally, he might've trusted the speed of his own escape. Or failing that, now-abandoned yacht anchored at Kristiansand with a passenger manifest of arms smugglers the world knew as missing, and he knew from an incident with disturbing parallels to the present. Or finally, just the sack of Euros in the seat behind him that smoothed out his current flight. But all those moves had relied on an opponent with less resources than Vandal Savage.

    King juked sideways, just missing another staccato burst from the machine guns. His pursuer dropped deeper into the ravine. There wasn't much room to maneuver. A lurch would kill. His weight shifted. The hovercraft responded beautifully, fishtailing into an eccentric but controlled pendulum. A thick cloud of snow and rock stirred behind him. Guns again. That registered as his flank exploding in pain, and a suddenly smoking craft coming apart beneath his feet. Infrared targeting scanners. He was on all fours, as much to keep the board together as to keep from being thrown off. Nose up. He pushed off just as the engine stalled into a tailspin.

    The man's networks were entrenched and his security was impenetrable. Rumor had it that he was a metahuman. Regardless, he'd situated himself at the center of nexus that represented human knowledge about them. In the best case scenario, Jonah was now his patsy. In the long run, that might mean a favor. Immediately, though, it mobilized huge forces against him. In any case, it was more likely that he was the tool of a rogue lieutenant who'd picked this moment to break out on his own, or scuttle the coming alliance between Vandal's operation and one of equal age and strength. So he slid the chip back into his breast pocket as the plane began to taxi forward, resigned to the fact that the most likely outcome would be an RPG slamming into the side of the vehicle at about this moment. That would qualify as the least painful of the day's explosions.

    The jump wasn't clean. Not from the outset, and not after the midair collision that followed seconds later. Shrapnel raked at his suit's protective weave. Concussive force torqued him sideways. Joints crumpled on impact. The snowbank, too. He bounced. Quiet. Then a helicopter was the whole world. It pounded so loud that it could only be a few feet away. When he chanced to open his eyes, it was hovering directly above. Even though he'd destroyed it? Must have been the third and final. It was still ascending, preparing to circle as he struggled to his feet. He wouldn't survive the next pass. It was a good fifteen feet up now. His knees stopped sagging, and bent with coiled muscle. Seventeen feet, and banking into a turn. A jarring shot of pain coursed through his battered frame, the first evidence his leap had been successful. Then he began to hall himself up onto the landing gear.

    It had been a mistake to go in without definitive knowledge of Al-Abyad's employer. When he found it, it would be clear whether he could stay with the side that was chosen for him, or if he'd have to make amends. The latter was more logistically complex, but it was certainly the more emotionally appealing of the two options. All he had to do was go a bit further than he had in the helicopter. He felt a pit in his stomach then that wasn't entirely from takeoff. He let triggered the recliner on his seat, hoping to sleep more for dreams than rest. There were a few hours to prepare for what was coming.

    TAG: @Penguinator
    Last edited by Jabba-wocky, May 7, 2013
  25. Yuul_Shamar Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 3, 2004
    star 4
    IC: Lex Luthor
    Print and Press Coffee Shop/In Transit/LexCorp Headquarters

    The expected strong grip of Captain Rogers farewell could still be felt as he watched the man depart, sealing the expected and awaited victory at last. It had taken more effort than planned to be sure, but no plan survives contact with the enemy, be it a literal war zone or that of the less loud, usually, realm of verbal and emotional conflicts. Success, regardless of circumstance, was something to cherish, and one of the things Lex allowed himself to take pride in and enjoy, though for the moment it was mostly internal save the all too real satisfied and confident expression on his face. Putting on the display of checking the time, he casually pressed the all clear signal of the device before turning to his latest 'acquisition' and speaking for the first time since their unexpected guest had departed. "Well then, if there is nothing else, assuming you do not want another tea, shall we be off?" His voice calm and confident, mentally keeping count of the time it would take for his driver to reach the spot outside the coffee shop since he had signaled. Though the good doctor didn't know it, he timed his reply to follow after Lex perfectly. The moment the mind and his new pawn had stepped outside was the moment that the limo pulled up. Mercy had eyes on everything, as usual, and pulled it off well despite the unyielding tide of traffic, foot and otherwise, that was ever present in the 'Big Apple' as she opened the door.

    Some of the passersby had naturally stopped to look on or take pictures, particularly those that recognized him, as he friendlily gestured for Doctor Banner to enter first. Lex had no need to guess at the relief the doctor had to be away from the crowd. Once he himself had also entered, it was not long before his bodyguard had shut the door and returned to the front passenger side of the vehicle. Normally she would ride in back with him, but for now he did not wish to crowd Dr. Banner. Once the car was in motion, he offered some of the amenities it had to offer as he apologized, saying "I believe you may have some hesitation against our next method of transportation, but sadly we have no time for alternatives." In a moment while they were on their way, he found the message on his phone. An interested look reached his expression before he could dismiss it. It seemed they would have company, and something to deal with, when they reached Metropolis.

    Fortunately the flight on board his private jet was easy enough, and no doubt the lack of a crowded compartment helped in someway with Banner's mood as he observed him occasionally. In the end, it was only a short few hours before they were making their way to his private elevator. Why deal with crowds of his employee's commute when he could afford not too? Well, when he didn't arrive via helicopter that is. But he had felt that one trip in the air would be enough on the doctor's nerves for the day. "I feel I should let you know, we're expected." He explained smoothly to the man opposite him, the only other person in the elevator aside from the ever present silent personality of Mercy. It was only a moment or two later that they reached their destination.

    Tag: @Penguinator
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