Drama Marvel Heroes: Resurgence

GM's NOTE: All applicants from this point on will be put on a Waitlist. The game is likely to open again after the conclusion of Chapter 1. Thanks again for all your interest.

 

IC: SGC 28.57^3
Latverian Outskirts

He had not gone far. He knew that much at least. He had ran for days, and nights. Scrabbling over rubble and over the dead into his freedom expecting scientists or soldiers to appear from around every rubble pile or tree. . . and then he had slowed his pace of scuttling from hiding spot to hiding spot and took stock of himself. He was running but he had no destination, he was hiding but until it was too late he was unsure from whom.

And there was the wonders. His first view of so many things that had only been stories told to him as he fell asleep. Trees, bushes, boulders, small living things! each was a wonder to touch, to feel, to eat. He had a lot to learn, and on his own it had been the hard way. A voyage of self discovery that slowed his progress of running erratically even further, as he did make mistakes and had to hide in hand dug hollows in the rubble to ride out the pain or other new suffering from eating something he shouldn't. An occasion that became rarer as time went on.

Every night he stares at the stars, noting their turning about his head. He has watched them change and slowly come back again. If his count is right it has nearly been or has been a year since he has seen his mother, heard her voice. Instead he finds only comfort in these stars and wonders she had tried to share with him as he fell asleep each night.

He has stopped running, he stopped a long while back, now he scouts and learns the area. After being stumbled upon by a blind man he has set up a sort of area of the wilds and rubble that is his home. That he knows and studies, sometimes finding cans of food midst the rubble to sustain himself besides eating leaves and animals. In fact he had found something, labeled if he was saying it right: 'pine-apple'.

Erasmu was not at his camp, but SGC was fine with waiting. It gave him time to practice with the rubble at the edge of the mans camp. Trying to push it around, he found a good sized stone and was just concentrating and pushing it toward a pile of stones. It must of weighed eight kilo's when Erasmu called out to him.

Turning his head he called out in his soft voice in reply, his current pass time forgotten. "I have found something in a can called pine-apple. Is there a tree that makes these?" he simply asked as he shifted his four legs toward the approaching man.

TAG: greyjedi125

 

Name: William Brock
Codename: Varnage
Gender: Male
Age: 33
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 235 lbs
Likes: Cop shows, exercising, spaghetti, research
Dislikes: Flighty women, perceived immorality, disorder, overly salty spaghetti sauce
Personality: Inquisitive but conservative, loyal, brooding, has a strong sense of his own personal righteousness. When in battle mode, he is utterly relentless, with his cybernetic personality taking over.
Appearance:
Human form:

Combat study:

Stance: Pro-registration
Metahuman ability: Super strength, ability to study the environment by extending tendrils, ability to meld parts of the body into bladed weapons and jaws, web-slinging, wall-crawling, ability to camouflage and appear in any type of clothing imaginable, on-board weapons of gatlin gun, grenade launcher, and rifle. As a human, he is a weapons expert and in prime physical shape.
Bio: First cousin of Edward Brock, aka Venom/Anti-Venom/Toxin, Will served two tours in Blackwater Security, doing missions that the US government would, to say the least, not want to go public. After his second tour was over, he was selected by the government to become the host for top secret Project Varnage, an experiment to try to create a symbiote-infused government agent that would not have the same liabilities as someone who was fully bonded to a live organism. Due to his exceptional work in Blackwater as well as his close genetic relation to one of the most successful known human symbiote hosts, Will was considered the best candidate and was injected with an engineered cluster of cells taken from both the Venom and Carnage symbiotes that had been infused with microscopic cybernetics that completely re-altered Will's internal anatomy. The merger was a success, and the being known as Varnage was born. Fiercely loyal to the cause of pro-Registration camp, he is everything the government wants in a symbiote-based agent, though there is always the lurking fear in the background that the alien tissue could be brought back to life somehow...

Currently, Varnage is in the employ of S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

Agent William Brock
Personal quarters, Triskelion HQ

Life was funny, or maybe to some. Perhaps some questions were never meant to be answered. Had he not been on a clandestine mission for S.H.I.E.L.D. on the other side of the world, would he have been in Latveria with the rest of the full time Avengers when it all went down. Would he be on a ‘missing’ list today after facing off against Dr. Doom?

There was no way of knowing and no point in dwelling on it.

Drawing back from his musings, a few things became evident. There was a small alert flashing on William’s desktop computer, which signified he had a pending message. This one was not a standard vid-message, but it was a priority text file.The header read: Anti-SRA demonstrations/ Superhuman Contingency.

The message simply directed him to be at the Zone 6 Ready Room for a debriefing with Deputy Director Giles and Agent Nina Kowalski at 09:45 hours.

The day was getting interesting already.

So, it seemed that the rumors regarding the demonstrations were real after all.
Something this big, this organized, could not just be coincidence, or could it?

There was only one way to find out.


Tag: Darth Vortex

 

Gami
Woodlin Tree House


"I sure hope we're far enough from the cities to avoid that stuff," she spoke softly. She looked around them a bit. "This place is so peaceful." she nodded. Isaac replied, "I like the cities myself," Isacc mused in response, "But yes this situation is a bit different. I'm sure this area will be left alone by them." Gami wasnt too sure about that. She had seen it happen too many times before. She simply gave him another nod. Gami noticed he scanned the area around them as she had just done. Then he spoke up once more. "Yes. I don't see why they'd come anywhere near here, honestly. What do you think of the SRA thing?"

Gami looked over at him, giving him a sad smile. "Then, you have not seen much. The cities are more violent, but they have the press there. Cameras. They hide the sins, of the things that happen outside of the cities." Gami looked out checking no others were around them, before she continued to speak, her voice soft and sad. "I've seen entire villages wiped from the surface of the earth, without a bit of warning. Folks who simply wanted to be left alone, and live. They had no inkling of what was going on outside of their tiny village, nor did they want to know. They were happy ... peaceful..." Gami frowned, silent for a few moments, before she looked back at Isaac.

"I dont like cities. The herd mentality is too strong there. All it takes is a few people to turn a peaceful demonstration into something ugly. They are scared. And scared people will do anything." Gami sighed deeply. "And as far as the SRA thing?.." Gami gave another deep sigh. She wasnt really sure of Isaac, but if he tried anything, she was sure that she would be believed, more than him. But he had not given any provocation for her to suspect anything at the moment. She lowered her eyes for a moment, and then looked back up at him.

"The Japanese-Americans had to register. They got put into internment camps. The Indians, were sent to reservations. And we all know what happened in Germany. They lost their rights. Rights for a normal life. It is enforcement on a small populace. Those poor people, who are so afflicted with it through no fault of their own, they are forced to register. If they never use such abilities, or even use them to do a small bit of good, they are criminals. If they do not register. Criminals. And if they do register, what happens to them? They are no longer allowed to live a 'normal' life. It's like being declared a sex offender, even though they have done no wrong. What next? They are told who they can 'mix' with, or fall in love with?" Gami shrugged her shoulders. "The law dosent effect the few criminals, who might actually be doing bad things. It punishes everyone. Even people who aren't mutants, or whatever name they are being called nowadays."

Gami gave another soft sigh, and then looked back at Issac, and gave him a small smile. "I just hope you are right. Hmmm. I was going to pick some berries." Gami suddenly perked up. Well, Jake said dont go out ALONE. But if we're together, we're not alone. What do you say?" Gami asked Issac. Right now, after that bit of news, picking some berries sounded like a great way to clear her mind. She waited to see what Issac would say.



Tag: Darth_Elu, greyjedi125

 

IC: Agent William Brock
Personal quarters, Triskelion HQ

After reading the debriefing, Will headed straight for his weights. Nothing got him more invigorated for the day than a hard workout. On the floor lay a rusted bar with two one hundred pound weights on both sides. Bending down, he grabbed the bar with both hands and in one swift motion, lifted it across his shoulders and commenced to do five sets of five squats each. Letting the bar then fall to the ground (he cared not if anyone heard the noise), he then grabbed two eighty pound dumbbells and did five sets of five burpees, followed by one hundred-fifty pushups. Having worked up a considerable sweat, he then ended with seventy situps. One quick shower later, and he was making his breakfast; a shake made of seven eggs, a bag of spinach, a cup of protein isolate, a cup of walnuts, and a cup of strawberries (so it wouldn't entirely taste like bird poo). Afterwards, he hopped into the shower for several minutes, letting the hot water clean off all the accumulated sweat and grime. His intense workouts served two purposes; one was to keep his human side in tip top shape, which was necessary for his line of work. The other was that the stronger he got, the stronger they made...

No, not 'they.' Will quickly pushed the thought from his mind. The things inside of him were weapons and nothing more. To try to give them an identity could possibly lead to the schizophrenic behavior found in many individuals with his...condition. His own family was testament to this. At the very worst, it could start an awakening, which would completely compromise his usefulness as an agent. No, it was just he, and he had to be getting down to briefing in roughly an hour and a half. Stepping out of the shower, he dried off and threw on some basic clean clothes. He also made sure to brush to get the nasty taste of the protein shake out of his mouth.

In the kitchen Will proceeded to make himself a cup of hot chocolate. He had never been one for chocolate before arriving, but the variety used by S.H.I.E.L.D. was not bad; or at least, it was better than the crud that passed for coffee in the base. As he took several sips, he reminisced about the new events. While he was not anti-metahuman, mutant or otherwise, he did not understand why so many average people were opposed to the SRA. Surely it was everyone's best interests that the government was able to keep tabs on beings able to destroy entire cities in an afternoon. The seemingly never ending stream of super-powered villains were a testament to this. Villains like his cousin. Oh sure, Eddie had reformed from time to time, but most of his post-journalism career had been spent in the pursuit of mindless murder, whether it was part of that pointless vendetta against Spider-Man, or part and parcel of trying to be a 'lethal protector,' which basically just meant killing anyone Eddie had perceived as evil. Will of course had killed people, but those had all been documented criminals or terrorists, not randomly selected individuals. And Will had been under a strict command hierarchy, not just running around as he pleased. Vigilantism was just one step away from outright villainy, and if ordinary people were to live in peace and security, those with powers would have to submit to the authorities. Without laws like the SRA in place, the effects of metahumans on society were most likely to be more than a little venomous.

Finishing his chocolate, Will got dressed in his regular dark blue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, holstered his black M9A3 sidearm, and exited his room, heading to meet Giles and the rest of his colleagues.

 

GM Approved Lore Post

Some Time Ago...
WASP Cargo Hold
Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean


Alastor looked down at the water that was pooling around his feet, and the discarded SHIELD Uniform that sat on the deck next to them. The towel over his head, and the thick woolen blanket that was draped over him was doing what it could to both pull away the water and provide some warmth, but nothing could really stem the cold that came from falling thirty thousand feet into sub-arctic water caused. Fortunately it kept him from feeling the bruises he was watching heal along his legs. That’d be a soreness he’d feel later, but he knew it was worth it.

His ‘escape’ from SHIELD hadn’t been hard to orchestrate, likely due to the fact that he wasn’t a prisoner. Not yet at least. It was easy to rig the armory’s sensors to register a containment leak on the biological weapons stored there. The existence of such that was of course some of the reason he’d left. When the purge protocols errored out, the evacuation was ordered, Alastor volunteered to remain behind, said he’d set off the incendiaries manually. Nobody argued, he could heal from it after all.

The armory itself provided everything he needed for the rest of the plan. The bombs were easy to set, and the cascading virus from Dustine he’d planted that started this whole mess had fried the security cameras, nobody saw what he was doing. He’d spent days piling everything into the Mandroid launch containers, they were obsolete and being used for storage as is, and so nobody thought odd of it. A lax sense of security that he doubted would last, so he had to make his move.

With the pods in place he climbed in, commed the bridge, asked if the section was clear. “Incendiaries are a bust.” He claimed, “Sabotage by the looks of it.” He let out a stream of curses, to add some authenticity. “The Paxilon Hydrochlorate is leaking, if it gets into the vents... I got an idea... sorry I won’t be around to pay for the hole.” They asked what he meant, but by that point he’d initiated the purge. All the biological and chemical weapons burned out in a flare of white-hot fire before a series of thermite bombs went off, followed by the Nitramene detonators he’d placed around the deck.

The thermite had just enough time to burn through the hull around the containers before the detonators went off. All of them, with Alastor in tow, went into freefall as the armory and it’s adjacent sections blew out, sending the Helicarrier careening off course. It wouldn’t crash, but the chaos would buy him the time he needed, and the debris falling down, plus the EMP set off by the purge would keep them from tracking him.

It bought just enough time for the WASP to find him and the containers, held together by chains floating in the North Pacific. Now he was shivering, trying to think about how it’d all had gone wrong. “You know I figured...” He managed, between the teeth chattering. “That after they learned the SRA was a tool for the Skrull to gut Earth’s defenses, that SHIELD would have been smart enough to axe the whole thing... not try and ram it into every nation on Earth...”

“The problem is that it comes across as a reasonable precaution.” Josie replied, standing in front of him and holding a strap above her. Dressed in her normal combat suit, she had been the one to fish him out and pull him into the WASP. As such, her normally spiked looking hair was temporarily flattened out. “And people in positions of power, some of them are probably quite normal, reasonable, and not-tied-to-any-kind-of-agenda, and are scared of those with actual power. So to them, and to the people at large, it seems reasonable to expect that those with actual power should be restrained somehow.”

She gave a small shrug. “I don’t necessarily disagree with the thinking. It’s logical. The insidiousness of it though certainly bothers me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the majority of folks haven’t considered it.”

“Problem is the insidiousness of it never is thought of by the average person till it’s too late.” He pulled the blanket closer. “Godwin’s law notwithstanding, by the time your average citizen thinks about it the Jews are already in Auschwitz, the Japanese-American’s are already in the internment camps, the Armenians have already been rounded up…” The sad part of his analogy was it was all true, and that the list could have gone on. “I saw in person, what SHIELD does when someone they think is in proper power, and has the rule of law behind them use the SRA. I saw kids and teenagers injured, maimed, beaten. I don’t care how logical it might sound it’s wrong.”

“Didn’t say it wasn’t. Just that it was logical.” Josie replied, gently. “Funny thing about logic. It can be used to justify just about anything, if done the right way.”

Shaking her head, she looked at the containers, then back to Alastor. “So. You’re dead. Again. We really need to stop meeting like this.” Sighing, she added, “Since we’ve fished you out though, what comes next? Surely you’ve been thinking a little bit about that, or you wouldn’t have come up with this extraction.”

“No, just thought I’d have you pull me and all those experimental prototypes and top secret SHIELD data out of the ocean for a small chat and a chance to make another sly comment about your hind quarters.” He ran a hand along his arm, the feeling was starting to come back and the black and purple blemishes were more than indicative of the pain he was about to feel. “The beautiful thing about falsified identities is that Alastor Zingari’s never died, the guy he was born as? Sure, burned in a house fire. Guy he became? Just blew up in a massive security failure of epic proportions. But Zingari. Well, he’s just been on a long vacation, and now he’s ready to come back to work.

Standing up he winced, and grabbed a pair of sweatpants that had been sitting by a space heater to get warm and pulled them on, slowly. “Thing is I agree with you. SHIELD’s heart’s in the right place their mind is in the wrong one. They’re going about it all the wrong way and it’s not gonna cause a powder keg, it’s already lit the fuse. When it hits the fan, and it will, we need to be ready… I can only hope the tech and plans that ‘died’ along with me will help me, you, and give the rest of DEM get a leg up. Cause we’re gonna need it.”

Josie nodded somberly. “Hopefully. Already got a team waiting on the Long Haul to look over what you got, get it better secured. Might take us awhile to get to the ship, but at least we came prepared.” Releasing the strap, she turned to the containers, her tail slipping out from her belt and grasping at a handle for one and pulling it over. “I know you couldn’t really tell us without possibly getting caught, so now’s a good time to mention what goodies you brought with you. I can send the generalized list ahead to the team so they can get ready for’em.”

“An unfinished railgun prototype, it just needs a few tweeks I’m positive our guys can work out.” He moved over to the first aid kit mounted on the wall, he knew it had morphine, and he knew he could take that to head off any pain he was going to get without it affecting him otherwise. Thank goodness for healing factors and all that.

“Bunch of blueprints for things like QuinJets, UCAVs, automated security drones, some of the older sentinels, that might give us insight into the new ones.” He pulled out a syringe, and didn’t even bother with a tourniquet, just found a vein and went to it. Few new rifles, the over-under rifle-twenty five mike mike prototypes that SHIELD based off the rejected OICW project. Lots of bits and pieces, grenades, bombs, ammo prototypes, a few pieces of personal armor and shielding tech. Schematics for SHIELD’s fork of the ARC reactor project, and one more thing.”

He turned around, rubbing the injection point with one hand as he pointed at the largest container. “SHIELD’s completed EXO-Series EX Mark-II Exoskeletal Power Armor System. They aren’t just afraid of Metahumans, they’re afraid of Stark too.” He stepped over to the case and put a hand on it. “Power sources had been ripped out, and an EMP generator inside is keeping it shut down, we’re gonna need to pull this thing apart, rip out and replace everything that holds data, completely re-write the OS and operational A.I. This, was SHIELD’s trump card for the Skrull war, this was their replacement for the Mandroid Commander project before it got canned. A man sized, man operated, sentinel, with all the capabilities of it and Iron man. And it might be our best bet at fighting back against them if it comes to it.”

Josie whistled appreciatively. “Quite the haul then. BP is going to have a field day on the suit. Dustine too, I imagine.” She kneeled next to it, patting the case lightly. “I think we’ll have to be careful with this one. At least until we can make derivatives, or there are enough suits from other companies are in the air, then it won’t be as much of an issue. Otherwise, if we use it too soon, it’ll be recognized.”

She looked up to him. “Major game changer. Better be absolutely sure that whoever uses this doesn’t get stupid. Even an early Iron Man suit could be a destabilizer.”

“That’s why I’m going to use it.” He let out a huff, “I was on the team working on it because one, I have a degree in Mechanical Engineering, and two I used the Mark-I during the conflict with the Skrull, I was basically their foremost expert on using these things in the field since they couldn’t really tell Stark what was going on.” He stepped away from the container and sat down. “That’s going to be our ace in the hole, if we can get it back up and running, incorporate the other tech I brought into the design, build our own, then when it all starts to fall down we’ll be in position to stop the inevitable collapse. We’re DEM. Our motto has always been ‘when they least expect it’, and if we get this right, they certainly won’t expect this.”

“True, but even with you here we’ll be hard pressed to get it fully operational.” Josie straightened up, scratching the back of her head through her wet mop of hair. “Still, they should be up to the challenge. And if it works...well, that’ll really give us a boost.”

Snapping her fingers, she pointed at him. “That reminds me, Lin will be waiting on the ship too, she has an upgrade for the implant for you. We’ll get that done and have you back in the net before we reach HOME.”

“Good… I got a list of upgrades we’ll need to throw onto my regular armor, BP will probably want to focus on that first, even if she really doesn’t want to.” He pulled a dry blanket around him and moved a little closer to the heater. “Once it’s up and running, I can get back into the field. There are a few targets we need to look into, a few old friends in AIM that need to be put out of business… then we can really get to work.”

Josie sighed dramatically. “Oh AIM, how I really didn’t miss you…”

 

Isaac Angakkuq IC:
~Woodlin Tree House, Maine~

Gami had given him a smile of sorrow at his question, which prompted a faint frown from him. He listened, as he often did.

"Then, you have not seen much. The cities are more violent, but they have the press there. Cameras. They hide the sins, of the things that happen outside of the cities. I've seen entire villages wiped from the surface of the earth, without a bit of warning. Folks who simply wanted to be left alone, and live. They had no inkling of what was going on outside of their tiny village, nor did they want to know. They were happy ... peaceful..."

Isaac wasn't surprised to hear of problems outside of cities, especially with recent events happening, but entire towns being destroyed with none else reacting? That was simply hard to fathom. The very idea should have vilified the international community, riled them up! But she wasn't done and her words continued to pour over him.

"I don't like cities. The herd mentality is too strong there. All it takes is a few people to turn a peaceful demonstration into something ugly. They are scared. And scared people will do anything." Gami sighed deeply then. "And as far as the SRA thing?.."

He had heard that complaint of city people before and it was a little unfair, if not entirely off the mark he surmised. Still, now wasn't the time to debate upon that matter. And from here, her words took on a different tone. One he knew better from stories.

"The Japanese-Americans had to register. They got put into internment camps. The Indians, were sent to reservations. And we all know what happened in Germany. They lost their rights. Rights for a normal life. It is enforcement on a small populace. Those poor people, who are so afflicted with it through no fault of their own, they are forced to register. If they never use such abilities, or even use them to do a small bit of good, they are criminals. If they do not register. Criminals. And if they do register, what happens to them? They are no longer allowed to live a 'normal' life. It's like being declared a sex offender, even though they have done no wrong. What next? They are told who they can 'mix' with, or fall in love with?" Gami shrugged her shoulders. "The law doesn't effect the few criminals, who might actually be doing bad things. It punishes everyone. Even people who aren't mutants, or whatever name they are being called nowadays."

He looked off into the distance himself here and offer a quiet bit of input himself before she finished up her words.

"True…The Inuit people also were forced to register in the past. We…they…were given numbers. That process is still only now being slowly overturned and given compensation for. Still…"

He shook his head unable to say anything further just then. It was all true and made for a convincing argument against registering, but he couldn't help shake the feeling that not all registrations were bad. But how would he know? And Firefly simply wouldn't give him a straight answer on the topic, or hadn't so far.

"I just hope you are right. Hmmm. I was going to pick some berries." Gami suddenly perked up. "Well, Jake said dont go out ALONE. But if we're together, we're not alone. What do you say?"

He cocked his head to the sigh as if listening to the small breeze that had picked up, smiling a little oddly. His mind still clearly processing everything. But with a gentle push from Firefly in his mind, he nodded a little.

"Sure. I was going to go fishing myself, but perhaps I'll hold off for now due to the warning. But picking berries should be ok, we won't have to far."

Plus, I need to keep an eye on Jake for some reason anyway.

As he turned to head off toward where they would pick berries, he offered Gami a look of something akin to respect. "Thank you for your thoughts on the question, Gami. I appreciate it."

He didn't add 'I'm sorry,' due to something clearly having affected her personally in the past. He didn't need to, it was woven into his thanks, silent but there. If she ever needed to talk, well, Isaac was good for that thanks to Firefly's abilities she gave him.

"Now, lets get some berries. Momma Woodlin would probably be happy for some more, I think she was talking about getting a little low recently."


Tag: Gami, Anyone Else at the Tree House

 

Gami
Woodlin Tree House

As Gami spoke, she had paused, looking off into the distance. Isaac spoke up then. "True…The Inuit people also were forced to register in the past. We…they…were given numbers. That process is still only now being slowly overturned and given compensation for. Still…"

Gami just nodded in understanding. But she did wonder why he had added the word 'still'? As if he was still deciding something? Well, if he was, that meant he was still open to thoughts and ideas. Not closed minded like many. That was a good thing. The mood had gotten a bit more depressing than she had meant. So she tried to lighten it. "I was going to pick some berries." Gami suddenly perked up. "Well, Jake said dont go out ALONE. But if we're together, we're not alone. What do you say?" Isaac cocked his head to the side slight, smiling a little. He then nodded.

"Sure. I was going to go fishing myself, but perhaps I'll hold off for now due to the warning. But picking berries should be ok, we won't have to far." Gami gave Isaac a wide smile now. They both turned, to head towards the area where the berries should be growing. Isaac looked over at her. "Thank you for your thoughts on the question, Gami. I appreciate it." Gami blushed slightly. "No problem..." she murmured, trying to hide the blush, as she began to think about berries, or anything else. Isaac didnt seem to notice, thank goodness. He continued on, "Now, lets get some berries. Momma Woodlin would probably be happy for some more, I think she was talking about getting a little low recently." Gami smiled again. "Yeah, and a berry pie wouldnt be to bad a way to end the day on either." she answered with a laugh.

She then turned and laughed, giving him a playful look. "Race you to the berries..." She then began to run, not too fast, but playful, as she headed for the outcropping of berries ahead. She needed to blow off a bit of steam, and this was perfect.


Tag: Darth_Elu, greyjedi125

 

Acting Deputy Cameron Giles, Agent Nina Kowalski
Triskelion HQ, Central Debriefing Chamber 09:00 hrs.



Acting Director Maria Hill wore a stoic expression more frequently now than ever before, and with good reason. Nick Fury was among the missing heroes.

Presently, her back was to the security door as she faced a Large Holo-display screen. The security door chimed softly as it admitted the first of the two expected agents.

Acting Deputy Director Cameron Giles. Maria half-turned and nodded at the man in welcome. She didn’t say a word, but managed a small courteous smile, which faded after a pause. She almost chuckled to herself. It was good to see Cameron.

And, of course he was early. He always was. There wasn’t a time she could remember when he wasn’t early. Punctuality was his middle name.

After a momentary her momentary pause, Maria turned to face Cameron. A few pleasantries were probably something she needed. Socializing was something that Dr. Moira Mac Taggert would strongly recommend, especially after so many long hours of work. Hours? Months. Long hard months, which seem to have no end in sight.

“Good morning, Cameron. You look well…” Maria intoned, half smiling now. Cleary, she meant, ’you look well for someone who’s been working tirelessly ‘round the clock’.

“I had some fresh coffee made if you are interested.”

With that, the acting Director went ahead and poured herself a cup. Though she would engage in small talk, if there was any to be had, her eyes would reflexively return to the holo-display screen where constant updates were being made on a myriad of situations across the nation and the globe.

Within moments, the security door chimed once again, allowing Agent Nina Kowalski inside the debriefing chamber. Her security clearance and biometric-scan were clearly in order.

“Good morning, Nina.” She greeted, now a bit more relaxed and feeling just a tad less stressed. “Help yourself to coffee if you wish.” She added, motioning to the counter.

Maria remained standing and took her place next to the large screen projection. She motioned once again for the two agents to take their appropriate seats. Taken a centering breath, she began.

“As you probably know, there were rumors of Anti-SRA demonstrations circulating for a few days. Well, they are no longer rumors.” With a wave of a hand she brought there attention to the screen where a map of the nation was now visible.

“We have confirmed demonstration happening, in New York, Los Angeles, Washington D.C., San Francisco, Dallas, Denver and many other cities. Not only here, but across many cities of the world. London, Tokyo, Sidney, Madrid, Berlin, Manila. Particularly in countries where the SRA has become law.”

At this point, her hardened expression return.

“These multiple demonstration cannot be a coincidence. The organizational logistics alone rule out ‘coincidence’, therefore, something or someone has to be behind this. We are working on solving that mystery. What we do know is, that these demonstrations are vulnerable to exploitation, especially by…less altruistic and opportunistic criminal elements.

We are instructing our overseas assets to partner with local law enforcement agencies with the hopes that things do turn out peacefully. That’s the best case scenario. You well know, we have to be ready for the worst case scenario at all times. Especially now, with our big guns missing.”

A brief pause, to catch herself. Hopefully it goes unnoticed.

“The NYPD, the LAPD and so forth, have been assigned to handle all civilian cases of misconduct, should there be any.”

Another click and the screen changes, showing something familiar.



A NuSentinel

“We shall be deploying NuSentinels to all possible ‘hot-spots, like New York, Washington D.C. and Los Angeles for example. Meaning, locations where there’s great likelihood for superhuman encounters. This measure is for both civilian and metahuman protection. The faster a volatile situation can be defused, the better.”

“Giles. You will be coordinating assets with me. Kowalski. I need you to be part of an Intervention Strike Team in the New York Area. I already have a Quinjet and pilot assigned to you. Agent William Brock will be part of your team. You will require at least to more agents before you are cleared for the mission. We are calculating who are the best qualified personnel currently on base or not on assignment. You will be debriefing Agent Brock at 09:45 hrs.”

“Now, if you have any comments, suggestions, objections or concerns, this is a good time to voice them. Don’t hold back, we cannot afford to second guess ourselves.”

Tag: @Darth_Elu, @Reynar_Tedros

---

Ira Sinclar & Harriet Sinclar
Roadside Motel, Outside Lvingston, Montana

The woman smiled openly, but her eyes were none too subtle as she scrutinized the pair. When Ira some, she was sufficiently well-mannered to give him her undivided attention. It did help that he was easy on the eyes.

”We’re doing well, ma’am. Just passing through town. We were wondering if you had a room available with two beds.”

“Two beds?” She echoed, sounding almost surprised. She quickly brought a hand to her mouth, regretting her words, but quickly recovering from her outburst as she fought of her embarrassment.

“Of course, of course.” She said, as a matter of fact, trying to not make eye contact until her natural color returned. She chance a furtive glance at Harriet, however.

“Is that about the Superhero Act?” Ira offered, steering the conversation away from any possible prying questions as he referenced ‘local news’.

The receptionist’s moves were practiced, but not too swift as she moved around her desk, making things ready. She was none too swift with the computer, which was supposed to make things easier and modern, but turned-out to be a big hassle in the end.

“Oh, that? It’s on every channel.” She said with some irritation.”City folks always making a fuss over this or that thing. Such a shame.” she shook her head, her face now etched with a disappointed expression. However, the moment didn’t last long.

“Now, let’s see here…” She murmured, now putting on her glasses.

Tik. Tik. Tik. She went, tentatively working the keyboard a she tried not to make a mistake.

“Yes, I think we have something…..”

People who wore glasses seldom saw themselves when they looked down there noses at a screen. Some would find such gestures comical.

“You can call me Agnes, by the way….”

The woman took a quick glance at the pair from her screen, then went back to her computer. She seems to be there for an extended moment.

On the T.V. the SRA drama continued to unfold. There were protests even in Hong Kong.

Another pair was approaching the reception desk. A mustachioed man wearing a black fedora hat with a giggling, much younger blonde woman in his arms slowed their pace then came to a stop. They both eyed the twins, undoubtedly for different reasons. The girl whispered something in the man’s ear. She giggled aloud and he only smiled, amused by her words. It was quite likely they were about to check out.

Agnes seemed to be finally done as she finally looked up.

“Room 11M is available, it’s on the second floor. I hope you don’t mind. We take cash or plastic, as ya’ll like to say. How many days will you be staying and under what name would you like to be registered?”

There it was again. The word of the day.

Agnes offered her most pleasant smile, as she was always happy to take in new guests at the Motel.

Tag: @NickLitYouAFlame

---

Kera Miles
Sioux City

It didn’t take overly long for Kera to hear the car honing outside her home. Her ride to the mall was here!

As she stepped out of her front door, the first thing to greet her was Sam’s new car. A black 4-door Prius.

“Kera!!” Sam called out, waving and grinning. The front passenger door was already open and waiting for her to get in. Naturally, music was also already spilling out of the car.

That and the fact that Sam had copied her and colored her short spiky hair purple too! Sam loved that color as well.

“ Hey, you!” Colin greeted from the back seat, grinning at her. He had a top-knot so far. He was trying to do the ‘man-bun look’, but he couldn’t grow facial hair to go with it, if his life depended on it.

“Looking good!” They both added, almost simultaneously.

“I said it first.” Colin put in quickly. Sam chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “whatever.”

To Kera, she simply said; “Seat belt.”

She always said it, even though Kera never, ever forgot.

“I hope you brought your selfie-stick. Cuz I’m blazing Instagram!” Sam added impishly, deftly driving out of Kera’s driveway.

The trio was making good time to the mall, when they hit an unexpected traffic jam.

“What the heck…!” Sam said frowning, already consulting her gps for detours. “What’s going on up ahead?” Colin wondered, unable to see far ahead from the inside. He stuck half his body outside the unmoving vehicle and out the backdoor window.

“There’s a bunch of people up ahead-some kind march maybe?” He was now squinting. He could her them chanting something, but couldn’t quite make it out.

There was a sudden sound, like a loud thump. Something hit the car. No, not something. Someone.

Several youths were moving about the cars, slapping hoods as the ran or skated past and continued towards the ‘march’.

“Yo, ladies!” One young man in a ‘Black Flag’ T-shirt stopped by the driver side. His friend, who was a bad kurt Cobain imitator stopped at the passengers side. “You guys going to the demonstration? Bet it’s about to get get crazy out there.”

Sam looked at him as if he had three heads and three eyes and six ears. Surprisingly, despite feeling annoyed, she managed to bite her tongue, at least for the moment.

“So who side are you guys on?” inquired the Cobain look-alike.

“What’s going on again?” Colin asked, looking confused.

The Cobain clone seemed to really notice Kera and leaned in closer, his smile widening.

Tag: @spacelady

---

Blueline

Near Union Square Park, NYC

NO MORE MUTANTS! NO MORE MUTANS! NO MORE MUTANTS!

The chant was growing louder by the moment as more voices seemed to join in the chant.

As were tempers.

He was the clean-cut and educated sort. This was the last place anyone would expect him to be. His phone had been on vibrate all along. Though annoyed by the crowd’s ignorance, he quickly glanced at the caller and pressed the green button to pick-up the call. But not before sharing a piece of his mind.

“Green eyes is a mutation, just like red hair! So you’ll just round up everyone with green eyes!!? Then what, huh? Then what?” A young man was expressing himself in no uncertain terms. There were three people yelling back at him.

“Having green eyes is NOT a super power you idiot!!”

“But the Hulk is GREEN and he’s a public menace!!”

“Dam right he is!”

“Oh, and who took on not one, but TWO SUPER SKRULLS single-handed!? Not you, nor you and not YOU!!”

“You can thank the Fantastic Four for those FREAKS!!”

“We don’t need NONE of them!!”

NO MORE MUTANTS!!

Clearly, the young man was outnumbered, but he was not backing down!

At that moment one of the nuns opened the side-door to admit the next 12 people inside for breakfast. Blueline was number 13.

“So you think some freaky green-eyed hero is gonna come and save your sorry butt!?”

That definitely sounded more like a statement than a question. One could feel the tension immediately rising. Some people moved away, others moved closer. He stilled hadn’t answered the open line on his phone.

“Forcing people to register against their will is wrong!! How dim do you have to be not to get that?”

The young man was not backing down, and neither were his detractors.

“He just called you stupid.”

Blueline didn’t need a crystal ball to guess what would happen next.

“Hey, Blu…you coming or what?” Vic said, if a bit urgently. Sal had already gone inside.

Tag: @galactic-vagabond422

---

Zephyr Vaillancourt
Zeckendorf Towers, NYC

Zack had answered his phone, but he didn’t speak into it immediately.
But the sounds coming through were unmistakeable.

No More Mutants! No more Mutants! No more Mutants!

It was heard over and over again, that, and Zack’s voice. He was apparently having a heated debate about green eyes being a mutation and even defending the Hulk in the process. Something not entirely unlike him.

The Zeckendorf Towers were located right across Union Square, where Zephyr could hear the chanting crowd from his apartment. There were police barricades on Broadway and Lafayette street, so the area was quite dense with protester, both pro and against the SRA.

From the sound of it, Zack was getting himself into a confrontation his penchant for ‘debating’ was not going to help him get out of. For someone so smart, he was brave and often foolish.

One would hope that his opinion on ‘heroes’ were well founded. Not only that, but also that it could pass the ‘acid test’.

Tag: @Ameteth

---

Gami & Isaac
Wooden Tree House, Maine

Just before coming to the long patch of berries, Gami and Isaac crossed the field of dandelions. Momma Woodlin often enjoyed walks through this field. She said it brought on pleasant memories. She certainly hoped this was true for all her ‘children’ as she called all who ever stayed at their camp.

It didn’t take long for the pair to reach berry patch. The pleasant scent alone was enough to bring on a smile. There was green all around, and suddenly, it seemed that the troubles that threatened them vanished without a trace. The two were not too far from the Woodlin camp and could afford to relax. Peace was to be had finally, or so it seemed.

It took them a while to notice it. Two whispering voices. One distinctly female and the other male. They sounded close.

“We should sell it. We’d be rich. We’d have more money than—”

“First we need to find out what it is…..”

“Who cares what it is. Looks expensive, that’s what!”

“Did ya hear that?”

‘Hear what?”

“Shhhh—“

Tag: @Ktala, @Darth_Elu

---

SGC 28.57^3
Latverian Outskirts

Erasmus turned towards the sound of the familiar voice. He wasn’t sure if he ever asked the man’s name, not that it mattered much to a blind man. The ‘sound’ of a voice was enough of an identifier for him. This was simply another survivor, like himself. One he called his ‘amic’. His friend.

” I have found something in a can called pine-apple. Is there a tree that makes these?”

Erasmus chuckled softly to himself upon hearing his friend’s question.

“Here. This jug is for you.” He said smiling, as he placed the jug of fresh water in proximity to the source of the voice.

“As for the pine-apple, is it any good? Are you sure it’s not expired? You should look at the date, assuming the wrapper is still on it.”

Erasmus sat down now, and proceeded to open his jug, but was having some difficulty twisting the cap off. He grunted several times, then abandoned the effort for a moment.

“And to answer your question, pineapples are a plant which grow close to the ground. They grow in tropical zones if I’m not mistaken. They are quite delicious…”

Once again, he tried to open the water jug and wrestled against the stubborn cap.

“Guess I will be dying of thirst either way…” he commented ruefully.

“You having any luck with yours?” The blind man managed to enquire between grunts.

“Either way, they’re saying there’s a cold spell coming through. You should try staying at one of the shelters for the next few nights. They’re also saying the young King will be visiting the area soon.”

Erasmus could only shake his head.

“Poor lad.”

Above them, several cargo ships began their landing approach to a landing strip not too far away from their makeshift camp.

Tag: @Mitth_Fisto

---

Alastor Zingari & ACE
77th St & 7th Ave, NYC

Alastor made it to the rooftop of the Vermeer without incident. After that, what happened afterwards was anyone’s guess. The figure he’s spied before was still there, though not standing as close to the edge as before. Where he stood, those standing at street level would be hard-pressed to see him and he them, but that did not include anyone inside the surrounding buildings.

From what he could see at this distance, the figure wore a long dark duster coat, had long dark hair and what at first glance looked like a black hannya evil kabuki warrior mask. He stood roughly at about six feet. Hints of musculature were noticeable, even with the coat on.

If he did notice Alastor, he gave no indication, at least not at first.

It was at that moment that the mercenary got a digital message from ACE.

Everything OK?

“I hope you are here only as a spectator.”

The figure still had not turned, but clearly he was addressing Alastor.

“You will soon witness a great moment in our history….”

His voice was slightly accented.

The crowd below was growing increasingly agitated. The police presence was doing little to dissuade the more vocal and proactive protestors.

“Free to be human, Free to be me! Free to be Super human! Let them be!”

“Lock up the Freaks! Throw away the Key!!”

“No more Heroes , No more Freaks!!”

“First Latveria! Who is next!!”

The dark figure rolled his shoulders.

“Fools” he hissed.

“All you need is….this…..”

He uncurled a black fist, then casually tossed something mysterious down at the unsuspecting crowd.

Tag: @Kahn_Iceay, @G3-001C


All other updates will be following soon…

 

IC: Alastor Zingari
Apartment Rooftop


As the object left the individuals hand there was a barely noticeable wumph and a crack drowned out by the sounds of the crowds bellow. The crack came from the object slammed down onto the roof behind the figure, and skittered across the rough surface a mushroomed .44 round sticking out of its surface. “Well, I was here just to observed, then you had to go and make that mistake…”

The chamber of the revolver rotated as the barrel shifted into the direction of the figure, but Alastor made no motion to pull the trigger. Target, adjacent roof, across street, cloaked, masked, begin tracking. This was his reply to Ace as Alastor made a few foot movements to keep himself equally out of view of the crowds.

“Ya know, don’t particularly care your political view, pro, anti, don’t matter. People who incite riots are the lowest form of scum, can’t fight your own battles so you stir up pots to get others to do it for you. You’re no better than a politician, sitting behind some big mahogany desk, sending other people’s children off to war to protect their corporate interests and that nice caiman island tax haven. Hell, you’re no better than the Skrull, twisting other people’s fears and ideals into weapons against themselves.”

“Probably your biggest **** up today was deciding to do this here, three blocks over and I’d have never noticed and probably wouldn’t have cared. Out of sight, out of mind, all that. So I’m going to be just a tad generous. See, already flooded the internet with a picture of you sitting on that there roof, so anything that goes down, well, fingers will be pointed but ominous kabuki cosplayer will probably be prime suspect. So here’s the deal.”

“You drop the jacket, and the mask, and you leave. You make a single move otherwise and I don’t care how fast you think you are, how far you think you can run, I can, and I will, put a bullet in your head. You won’t be the first, nor the last, body I’ll put down, and walk away from. And that's only counting this week.” The hammer of the revolver cocked back, “So, that’s yer options. Personally I don’t feel like getting involved, and couldn’t give a **** what you do after I leave today, but here, right now, today, this neighborhood, this don’t happen. Understand?”

Tag: G3-001C, greyjedi125

 

IC: SGC's 28.57^3
Latverian Outskirts, Erasmus' Camp

Listening to the man tentatively SGC looked at his can and back at the man as he first settled a jug of water near him. Water was a funny thing, flowing it tended not to bother him, and other survivors and in the camps he had seen people boiling it over a fire, and Erasmus tended for the jugged variety. It was all so different from in the labs, tap water was so much easier but a comfort he was more than glad to do without to have moments of freedom like this, to talk with a friend.

At least that is what he thinks this man is, he feels better to be around and share with than the Skrull scientists or the suited 'behavioral health' person that had come with Doom. Even now the thought of the man's name and those suits and scientists made his body quiver as he set the can down and set to the task of twisting the cap, quarter turn by quarter turn as he pressed and turned it til it gave a satisfying cracking noise not long after Erasmus had given up on his own.

The explanation of the Pineapple plant was interesting, he had thought Pine was merely the large spike trees, but the large world held many wonders. Such as whatever a tropical zone was. "Yes, it is ready. Trade you." he simply stated in passing as he picked up his now opened jug with the lid still on it and the can of fruit, he stepped the few steps to Erasmus and set his opened jug by the man's unopened jug. Turning the can over he tried to spot the expiration date, something else he had learned the hard way until someone had explained what it was to him. He did find a stamp but could not read it. It was scratched out to where he could not tell, and as for the stained paper it all was hard to tell beyond the bright labeled name and yellow chunks.

"I cannot tell on the date. Too many scratches." he simply stated as the man began talking about the weather. Shaking his head silently to the words of going to a camp. Too many people, always watching, always suits somewhere among them or observing them. Not safe.

Then, well as he heard one say before, the other shoe dropped. Not that he had use for such foot wear anymore, not since they had changed him.

His whole body trembled and the can fell from his grasp to bang off a rock as the ships flew over head. Had they spotted them? Was he no longer safe in his home area? Which way did he need to run? Which way was the right way? "No." he uttered softly as his hands came up to cup his head. Fear shook down through his body as he thought of what new dark days lay ahead. "Doom, no more Doom's. I cannot. . .I Will Not. . .go back. No more experiments. No more.No More. Hide. HIDE!" he simply rambled out before running to the pile of rocks and rubble of the man's camp and started to dig, pulling with his mind at the earth make room for him, he did not care of the hard ship it put on his body nor the strain. He had to survive, he had to stay free.

TAG: greyjedi125

 

IC: Nina Kowalski
Central Debriefing Chamber, Triskelion HQ

Nina checked the time right before she entered the security doors of the debriefing chamber. 8:58. Perfect.

"Good morning, Nina," Director Hill greeted her as she walked in.

"Morning, Director Hill," Nina pursed her lips into a professional smile and nodded her head politely.

"I had some fresh coffee made if you are interested."

"Thanks." Nina wasn't and had never been a coffee drinker. She'd had friends since high school who tried to turn her on to the stuff, experimenting with all sorts of different combinations and flavors, but still the only time she ever entered a Starbucks was for the atmosphere and free wi-fi.

Nina looked over and saw Deputy Director Cameron Giles standing in the room. The man was unbelievably good looking, SHIELD's model agent in more ways than one, and Nina had trained herself not to stare at his perfectly chiseled face for longer than socially acceptable. She probably would've already embarrassed herself at some point over the years trying to garner the man's interest were it not for her personal rule of never getting romantically involved with a coworker. It was a tough code to live by with her hardly ever being back home in Texas, and even then only for mere weeks at a time, but she'd never second guessed it. Not yet, anyway. She wasn't getting any younger.

"Morning, Giles," she gave him the same smile she'd given Hill, then turned to the holo-screen and took a seat as the Acting Director gestured. After a deep breath, Hill began to speak.

"As you probably know, there were rumors of Anti-SRA demonstrations circulating for a few days. Well, they are no longer rumors. We have confirmed demonstrations happening, in New York, Los Angeles, Washington D.C., San Francisco, Dallas, Denver, and many other cities. Not only here, but across many cities of the world. London, Tokyo, Sidney, Madrid, Berlin, Manila. Particularly in countries where the SRA has become law. These multiple demonstrations cannot be a coincidence. The organizational logistics alone rule out coincidence, therefore, something or someone has to be behind this. We are working on solving that mystery. What we do know is that these demonstrations are vulnerable to exploitation, especially by... less altruistic and opportunistic criminal elements. We are instructing our overseas assets to partner with local law enforcement agencies with the hopes that things do turn out peacefully. That’s the best case scenario. You well know, we have to be ready for the worst case scenario at all times. Especially now, with our big guns missing. The NYPD, the LAPD, and so forth have been assigned to handle all civilian cases of misconduct, should there be any."

Thus far Hill was reiterating at length what Nina had already read in her personal communications this morning. Still, she took in every word, filing it away in the vast database of her brain.

The screen changed to one of SHIELD's many pride and joy's, the NuSentinel, which to Nina looked like some creepy thing that belonged in a video game. Still, there was no arguing their usefulness, especially in situations such as these. Hill continued.

"We shall be deploying NuSentinels to all possible hot-spots, like New York, Washington D.C., and Los Angeles for example. Meaning, locations where there’s great likelihood for superhuman encounters. This measure is for both civilian and metahuman protection. The faster a volatile situation can be defused, the better. Giles. You will be coordinating assets with me. Kowalski."

Here we go.

"I need you to be part of an Intervention Strike Team in the New York Area. I already have a Quinjet and pilot assigned to you. Agent William Brock will be part of your team. You will require at least two more agents before you are cleared for the mission. We are calculating who are the best qualified personnel currently on base or not on assignment. You will be debriefing Agent Brock at oh nine forty-five hours. Now, if you have any comments, suggestions, objections or concerns, this is a good time to voice them. Don't hold back, we cannot afford to second guess ourselves."

William Brock, or Varnage as he was often called, was another one of SHIELD's prized possessions. Nina had conflicting feelings about him, admiring his strength and loyalty to the agency but not quite trusting his cybernetic enhancements that seemed to overtake his humanity in high stress situations. With his vast suite of abilities he could be incredibly dangerous if he lost control. Nina would probably make herself keep an eye on him during the mission, whether it was fully warranted or not. And if he was coming (along with two players to be named later), then this wasn't just another run-of-the-mill operation.

Nina didn't wait to speak up. "What exactly is our mission in New York?"

Tag: greyjedi125, Darth_Elu

 

GM Approved CS:

Name: Sean Baker

Codename: Guardian

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Hair: None

Eyes: Brown

Height: 6ft 2in

Weight: 140ibs

Likes: His own company, helping others, metal music

Dislikes: Bullies

Personality: Somewhat reclusive, loyal and steadfast.

Appearance: lean, muscular, close cropped brown beard

Mutant ability: Telekinesis

Bio: Born in London’s west in, he was a fairly normal boy. 2 blue collar parents, friends and the general merriment of childhood.

Sean discovered his mutant ability when he was 12 and the school bully stole his lunch, before he knew what had happened the bully was hanging upside down in mid-air. Luckily there was no-one else present so he was able to keep his abilities secret for several years.

Shortly after his 15th birthday he was having a nightmare, unable to control his power as he slept, Sean brought down his entire house in a burst of telekinetic power. Both of his parents died in the accident. Sean ran from the ruined house and lived on the streets for the next several years, using his powers and his fists when he needed to, in order to survive. It wasn’t long before his reputation cowed the local gangs and other vagrants on the London streets and they left him to his solitude.

6 years after the accident, he overheard a conversation about a group called SHIELD, who trained people with abilities and used them to enforce the law and bring down people who misused their abilities. Hearing this, Sean gathered his meagre possessions and set sail for the USA . . .

Stance: Registered

 

IC: Blueline
Near Union Square Park, NYC

NO MORE MUTANTS! NO MORE MUTANS! NO MORE MUTANTS!

The chants of the crowd were getting closer, causing pain in the middle of Blue's head. Sal was right, it was far too early for all this. His stomach growled as if to agree with his mind. He was so close now. Just a little more waiting and he'd get breakfast. He could already taste the soup. It probably wasn't all that good but, when it's the first food you've had in 10 to 12 hours, everything tastes good. From behind him a voice called out over the crowd.

"Green eyes is a mutation," Looking over his shoulder Blue sees a rather well dressed clean shaven man. He looked out of place among the protesters, "just like red hair! So you’ll just round up everyone with green eyes!!? Then what, huh? Then what?" Blue shook his head, he wasn't sure if the well-dressed man was right or not but, this crowd was most likely not going agree with him.

"Having green eyes is NOT a super power you idiot!!" A person yelled back, Blue knew this was not the start of some civil debate, he hoped it didn't get any worse.

"But the Hulk is GREEN and he’s a public menace!!" The young hero standing only a few steps away began to feel impatient. He wanted the line to move, get him closer to something to eat. He didn't want to deal with what may happen.

"Dam right he is!" Part of Blue agreed with the man in the crowd, the Green Goliath did seem to leave a trail of destruction in his wake, but, he did have his niche.

"Oh, and who took on not one, but TWO SUPER SKRULLS single-handed!? Not you, nor you and not YOU!!" Like that, no one else could take on two of those alien things. Those were the moments you needed heroes like the Hulk. If they were forced to register would S.H.I.E.L.D or whoever had the list be able to keep his rage under control, Blue thought that it be the sort of thing to set the Big Guy off.

"You can thank the Fantastic Four for those FREAKS!!" Where the Skrulls freaks or, were they just different? Blue's head hurt more, he always tried to leave such questions up to smarter people than him. His job was to protect people, mostly by putting himself in harm's way, not answer philosophical questions.

NO MORE MUTANTS!!

The refrain had grown louder, Blue stepped further away closing in on the first warm meal of his day. He looked over his shoulder, the out of place man set his feet, he wasn't backing down.

"So you think some freaky green-eyed hero is gonna come and save your sorry butt!?" It also appeared the other people weren't willing to just let it drop.

"Forcing people to register against their will is wrong!! How dim do you have to be not to get that?"

A growl emanated almost simultaneously from Blue's throat and his stomach. He could feel it the tension, the anger, the mass of bodies collecting around the argument, this wasn't going to end well.

"He just called you stupid." And that was Blue's cue. This wasn't going to be settled with words, they wanted to end it with fists. Sure maybe the guy was asking for it but, that doesn't make it right. The hero's hunger pains begged him to stay in line, get some food, deal with this later. Letting out a long breath through his bandanna, his eyes gazed upwards, to a cross.

"Do unto others." He muttered to himself. He never was much of a church goer, his aunt and uncle took him a few times but, Blue never really felt much. He did know that a big part of it was treating others like you'd want to be treated, some big rule or something. And if Blue didn't step up, who would.

"Hey, Blu…you coming or what?" Vic said beckoning the young man to enter, his other friend having already entered.

Some days Blue hated his conscience, it wouldn't let him walk away, even with an empty belly. "I'll catch up later." He said stepping out of line and beginning to work his way through the crowd. Eventually he broke into the center, placing himself between the man and the crowd. He may not have been red haired, green eyed or even green skinned but, Blue was the only hero this guy was going to get today. "How about we let this go guys," the hero starts trying to identify the leader, or any possible weapons. "If you start anything the cops are going to break it up, and they don't care who threw the second punch." If they didn't respect him maybe they'd respect the other boys in blue. "But, if you're so worked up that you want to beat on someone," he looked over his shoulder at the man he was trying to save, dropping into a fighting stance. "Beat on me." he said turning back to the crowd. He hoped the well-dressed man was smart enough to run while Blueline was taking this beating.

TAG: greyjedi125 Ameteth

 

S.H.I.E.L.D Trainee: Sean Baker
Personal quarters,Triskelion HQ

Sean was finally on the good side of his big adventure —or so it seemed.
He’d made the decision to set sail to the U.S. about three months ago. Gaining transatlantic passage as a ‘deck hand’ on a merchant ship was not overly difficult, but he had to give a little ‘extra’ for certain undocumented details to be overlooked which was pretty much everything he had.

Leaving his troubles behind in London was not such a bad decision for someone who desired to start a new life, however, his best decision was made when he marched himself into a S.H.I.E.L.D registration center, right after he got off the boat. The near 5 day voyage had him enter port around 3:00 am. There was literally no one around to see him, much less stop him or protest his presence, which was quite fortunate.

His background check, however, revealed that he was in a ‘missing persons’ list for over six years. S.H.I.E.L.D. had to pull some strings here and there to process Sean in a manner beneficial to the Agency, which, of course, they managed.

After processing and passing a physical exam as well as a psychological exam, Sean was declared fit to apply for a position with S.H.I.E.L.D. He wasn’t just a civilian registering for the sake of obeying the law or seeking a modicum of training in order to control runaway powers. Sean wished to be part of the global agency, and for that, he needed to meet the standard.

Today, Sean was one of the few people who could call the entirety of Triskelion Island, his home. Trainee Sean Baker has finally made it to Trainee level 1. Two months in Trainee level 0 consisted mostly of two months of intensive phys ed., body conditioning, and compulsory classes on Global Political Studies, Constitutional Law, Basic forensics and Psych Profiling. He only got to see other trainees during those classes. The only time to socialize was during ‘free time’.

Now, though he still had to finish the 6 month intensive classes in order to gain the benefits of such training, but thankfully, he’d been finally awarded trainee level 1, which meant, he could begin actual training with his power in the ‘Danger Room’.


Sean’s official S.H.I.E.L.D uniform had been delivered the day before, complete with functional ear-piece and data pad. He still didn’t have clearance to carry a sidearm. However, any question he might have, he could direct it to Triskelion's operational A.I., who answered to Jocasta, either via voice activation or text.

Upon his desk, a blinking light on his computer indicated he had a message.
He was to report to the Danger Room on Level 3 at 09:30 hrs and meet with his instructor: The Vision.

The small but spartan room, was a decidedly a big difference from slumming it on the London streets and fighting a turf war with so-called ‘rival’ gangs. This, this was a better path for his life. He could make a difference, not only in his own life, but in the life of others as well.


Tag: @Zurros Ka

 

OOC: Will get a post up as Cameron soon enough.

Isaac Angakkuq IC:
~Woodlin Tree House, Maine~

Moving toward the berry patch after gleaning Gami's happiness for the approval of the idea, he heard her offer to race him there.

<Not a good idea.>

Isaac had opened his mouth to say 'sure' with a shrug, but that stopped him cold. Closing his mouth for just a second, as if in thought, he then shook his head. When Firefly said something wasn't a good idea…it probably wasn't.

"That's all right, next time. Lets just enjoy the walk."

And so they did. At least, until right before they arrived there. Because as they went through the field of dandelions or 'Momma Woodlin's Dream Field' as he had designated it in his mind, there came potential trouble.

They didn't notice it right away, mind you. In fact he felt rather at peace when they first got to the area, like he wouldn't need to worry about the SRA and the protests resulting from it. Or whatever was to happen with Jake, even if only for a little while.

But then he caught on to the whispering and he assumed his companion did as well. Both of them.

“We should sell it. We’d be rich. We’d have more money than—”

“First we need to find out what it is…..”

“Who cares what it is. Looks expensive, that’s what!”

“Did ya hear that?”

‘Hear what?”

“Shhhh—“

Two people, one female and the other male. And they were close. He wasn't sure if he could approximate ages on their voices.

Immediately he crouched down and motioned for Gami to do the same, hiding amongst the berry patches. They knew the area too, which was to their advantage. He had no idea what was going on to be honest, especially have no clue as to what they were scrutinizing over for potential profits, but he knew one thing with people talking like that and about stuff like that…

You had to be careful, especially with the uncertainty of the age.

Quietly, he held out his arm as if to bar Gami's way, in a silent gesture of 'don't move!' From there he listened intently for just a few seconds, without getting anything from it. Only one thing to do at this point.

"I'll handle this, just don't move or make a sound for a second, ok?" he whispered as low as he could.

Tink…?

<You know I hate that nickname. But yes, I'll go check it out. Stay safe meanwhile, Inuksuk.>

We will.

While she wouldn't see anything or know exactly how he was 'handling' the situation, he simply closed his eyes and focused on his hearing the best he could to gather information himself and also to know if they had to move.

And at the same time, Firefly quietly flew toward the source of whispers, hoping they were as close by as it seemed. Never argue with the fact that the perfect spy was a spirit. It hadn't taken him long to know the truth of it over the years, though they never had done anything prying with it before.

He hoped this would be one of those times it paid off.


Tag: Gami & Voices

 

Zephyr Vaillancourt
Zeckendorf Towers, Union Square Park, NYC


“Darn it Zack, do you need to be right ALL of the time!!?”
Zephyr could feel anxiety and alarm building within him, but he pushed it away with a deep breath as he focused on what he needed to do to get to his friend Zack.

He could hear what was going on through the phone, Zack may have attempted to answer the phone call but may have been forced to keep his attention on the hostile sounding voices; the people he was arguing with, and exchange of words that seemed to be escalating into a fight.

Moving quickly and with purpose, Zephyr donned a black baseball cap, he was anticipating the need of extra protection.

He decided against looking out the window, it would be a terrible waste of time, he didn’t know what Zack was wearing nor did they agree to meet at a certain spot. However, it was quite possible that Zack was somewhere close to their meeting spot, but with the demonstration going on it would be impossible to tell at a glance.

“NO MORE MUTANTS! NO MORE MUTANS! NO MORE MUTANTS!”
The chant was incessant and growing in intensity. The best thing to do was to stay on the line and locate the chanting crowd, their voices and their digital duplicate would synch up when he was close, give or take a few fractions of a second.

Doing things the ‘normal way’ was so much harder, but with the possibilities of Sentinels about, ('Nu' or otherwise) one had to be extremely cautious or risk a confrontation or worse…he didn’t want to think about worse at the moment.

Door auto locks on the way out, where was the elevator.

A quick ‘sense’ allowed him to know that the modern conveyance was on its way down, currently on the 15th floor; two people inside.

‘Ok, I won’t have to take the stairs’ the thought brought him a measure of relief as he pressed the button. Turning down the volume on his phone, he smiled politely at the two passengers, and stood at the back not wanting to bring attention to his person.

Luckily the Luxury building had technology that made it possible for phone calls to remain connected in every area of the property, so that was something that he didn’t need to worry about.
The ride was fairly quick and only took about 7 seconds but it felt like an unbearable eternity, this was an exercise in focus.

“Have a good day sir and please be careful”, said one of the nicer doormen as he made his exit, concern clearly etched upon his brow.
“Thank you, but I’ll be fine”, replied Zephyr with a reassuring nod and then he swiftly disappeared into the mass of people.

With the phone still in one ear, he keenly listened for only sounds that and matched what he was hearing. It was difficult at first, the noise was tremendous and arguments were raging everywhere. Different chants were also in full effect, almost everything from ‘Heroes Need Love’ to ‘Die, Die Mutie’.

“NO MORE MUTANTS! NO MORE MUTANS! NO MORE MUTANTS!”

Then there it was, the specific section of hate he was looking for.

“NO MORE MUTANTS! NO MORE MUTANS! NO MORE MUTANTS!”

“Forcing people to register against their will is wrong!! How dim do you have to be not to get that?”

“He just called you stupid.”

‘Oh no!…I have to reach him before someone gets hurt’ Zephyr’s thought lent fuel to his sense of urgency. He no longer needed the phone to triangulate and help locate his friend; he could finally see Zack and the mutant detractors he was arguing with. He was still a bit too far and needed to maneuver a few more feet to reach him.

He thought about calling out to him, but figured that it may be misconstrued and trigger a physical altercation; perhaps a surprise interruption would help to catch everyone off guard.

As he got closer he noticed that someone else was standing in opposition to the hate mongers.
It was a young man by what could be seen of his face. The blue bandana he wore covered his nose and mouth. Perhaps this was someone who wanted to remain somewhat anonymous and demonstrate his support for heroes. However the holes, rips and stains on his hoodie made him stand out quite clearly.


"How about we let this go guys," said the masked young man, his voice marked with determination.

Zephyr was finally standing next to his buddy and behind the masked ‘defender’, he was glad to hear the sensible and persuasive argument the mystery youth offered in a bid to diffuse the volatile encounter. It was his next words however that left Zephyr stunned in amazement.

"But, if you're so worked up that you want to beat on someone... beat on me."

‘ Wow! This guy was something else altogether, he was definitely steely…’

Zephyr recognized this window of opportunity and the valiant heroic act of this mysterious young man, so he too would attempt to diffuse the situation, perhaps a sudden united front may prove sufficiently dissuasive.

Cutting in front of the masked youth and putting up his arms and hands in the universal ‘stop/not a threat’, he attempted to take away the attention from both Zack and the masked boy.

“ Woah GUYS! Guys…nobody here really wants to spend time with the boys in blue over this, OK. This is still a place where we are all entitled to our opinions…so yea, we were leaving anyhow.”

Quickly giving his back to vociferous mutant haters, but keeping them in his peripheral vision. Zephyr motions towards the outside of the park with his head, urging both Zack and the blue bandana youth that the time to leave is now.

“Come on guys, let’s get out of here….I really need some pizza now!”

TAG: greyjedi125,@galactic-vagabond422

 

Blueline & Zephyr Vaillancourt
Near Union Square Park, SRA Protest, NYC

Vic opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. His thinking process locked-up as he watched Blue walk away from the line he had been standing on for nearly an hour. “I’ll catch up later.” Blue said. Later? But where was he going?
The nun urged Vic to enter and go through the door and into the dining hall, lest he was willing to give up his place in line. With a heavy sigh, Vic took one last look at Blueline’s retreating form and went through the door. He’d want to hear all about this one, later indeed.

The now irate protestor was just about to throw a punch, when Blueline stepped right in front of him and his intended target: The clean-cut guy.

“How about we let this go guys.” Blueline says, calm and collected. The hot-headed protestor pauses, surprised by the intervention. He gives our ‘would-be-hero’ the once-over, then scoffs at him. Blueline in turn spots no weapons, but can count the hot-headed protestor and two more men as the main antagonists.

“Who the heck are you? Some warrior’s reject? Get the heck outta my way slimshady.”

“If you start anything, the cops are going to break it up, and they don’t care who threw the second punch.”

The hot-head protestor could not believe what he was hearing. He looked back at the other two, but they just laughed nervously.

Zack was also taken by surprise and was momentarily rendered speechless.

“But, if you’re so worked up that you want to beat on someone…”

Zack was shaking his head as he realized someone was about to get hurt because of him. The hot-headed protestor was shaking his head, thinking that west-side story here was some kind of nut.

“…you don’t have to do this.” Zack said, when Blueline looked back. He turned red with guilt and embarrassment, both emotions etched all over his face.

“Beat on me.”

Blueline took a fighting stance.

“Man, you must be some kinda crazy!” That’s all the hot-head protestor had to offer.

Suddenly, someone else got in front of Zack and his would-be rescuer.

“Woah GUYS! Guys…nobody here really wants to spend time with the boys in blue over this OK. This is still a place where we are all entitled to our opinions…”

Hot-head protestor laughed aloud in total disbelief.

“Damn! another hero? which one are you?” He taunted mockingly.

By now, most people awaiting a confrontation moved on to something else, some passers-by looked on curiously.

“…so yea, we were leaving anyhow.”

Zack recognized Zephyr’s voice and lit up at the sight of his friend and smiled once he turned around to face them. He nodded at the instruction to leave the park, understanding the non-verbal sign.

“Come on guys let’s get out of here…I really need some pizza now.”

Zack was about to agree when a sudden motion caught his eyes, which widened in surprise.

“The heck with this….” The hot-head protestor muttered under his breath as he lunged forward, aiming to sucker punch Zephyr on the head. However, he never made contact.

A very large muscled arm intercepted his punch. It belonged to a really large biker looking guy, who wore a black leather vest with a white letter ‘M’ painted on the back. The hot-head protester yelped as he failed to retract his now captured fist. Two similarly clad figures were nearby, one male, the other female, who were noticeable by those keenly observing the scene.

“Go.” He said in a deep voice.

The hot-head protestor was now releasing a string of vile expletives and was punching the large man repeatedly, to no effect. His two ill-willed accomplices were nowhere to be found.

Of those around them, none interfered, but many did take out their camera-ready cellphones. A female was heard screaming nearby. Her voice ringing clearly through the crowd.

“Leave me alone!! Please!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!”

The female was a teenager, huddled down on the ground holding her travel bag. There was a man holding some kind of dish-contraption which was pointed in her direction. It was pinging.

“I think we have a live one! She’s making it go off! she’s a freaking mutant!!” The dish-man sounded thrilled and horrified and totally not caring for the distress he was causing. Some people in the crowd were tossing objects and food-stuffs at the distressed girl.

“Can I see that?” a female wearing a black leather vest with the white ‘M’ on the back inquired, even as she walked up to the man, who’s eyes got as big as saucer plates when his device began to ping louder on her approach. She knocked him out with one punch.

She was about to kick him when a young man wearing a blue T-shirt with a white star inside a circle literally jumped in to block her.

“That’s enough of that.” He declared defiantly.

“Wall.” she said, casually.

The big muscled guy ( who apparently answered to 'Wall' ) tossed the hot-headed protestor like a rag doll into a group of gathered protestors and made his way to her.

That’s when people started to scream and run.

Tag: @Ameteth & @galactic-vagabond422

---

SGC 28.57^3
Latverian Outskirts, Erasmu’s Camp

“Trade you.”

At first, Erasmu wasn’t sure what his friend meant, but then he heard the jug of water being placed down next to him. He smiled. He reached out with one hand, grabbed the jug and tested the cap with the other. His smile widened. It was opened, as he had guessed.

“Oh, thank you, thank you. I am sorry to be a burden sometimes. If only I were young again..” he laughed ruefully at his own comment. “I can’t well expect you to open every single jug of water I bring, now can I?”

Without hesitation, the blind man took a refreshing swig of the precious liquid.

“Ahh…” he exhaled in satisfaction.

He could also hear his friend still tinkering around with the can of pineapples.

“I cannot tell on the date. Too many scratches.”

Erasmu chuckled. In his case, he would not be able to see the label at all.

“I can take it back to the Relief Camp. They can open it and I can bring it back to you. Good deal?”

He paused for an answer, but did not get one immediately.

Then something odd happened to his friend. Something he could not explain, but seemed to be the result of terrible things.

“No…”

Erasmu froze. He recognized the unmistakeable tone of fear in his friend’s voice. The sort that chills one’s very soul.

“Doom, no more Dooms. I cannot..I will not go back. No more experiments. No more. No more. Hide. HIDE!”

“Ey! Amic! What is wrong? What is the matter?” the blind man inquired.

Erasmus felt the displacement of air as his friend moved further away. This was immediately followed by the sound of frenzied digging.

“No! Amic! do not panic. There's no more Doom. The Monarch is gone. Calm down! Be at ease. We will go to the gypsies. They can help. We will find the gypsy camp. No more Doom….listen to my voice…no more….”

Erasmu spoke in a calming tone for as long as it was necessary. It was clear to him now that this was no place for his friend. Terrible things had happened to him. They needed to go someplace he had only heard of, but the gypsies, they would know how to get there.


Tag: @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC as Kera Miles

The Prius pulled up to the driveway and within were her friends, Colin and Sam. Kera slid into the front passenger seat and pulled the door shut behind her, pausing a brief moment to tilt her shades down her nose to grin at her friend in the driver's spot. "Nice hair. Shorter?"

Colin in the back announced his presence with a greeting. She shot a smile back at him. "Heya!"

The two both complimented her, to which she grinned in response and set her sunglasses back over her eyes. She began reaching for her seat belt as her friend so nicely reminded her. She laughed and made an exaggerated movement as she strapped herself in. "Thanks, mom."

As they left the driveway proper and headed to their destination, Kera allowed herself to slip into her thoughts, the music connected from an iPhone and the easy chatter of her friends blurred together.

"What the heck…!” The sudden exclamation caught Kera's attention. She looked forward and blinked at the throng of cars piling up ahead of them. "What’s going on up ahead?"

“There’s a bunch of people up ahead-some kind march maybe?”

Just as Kera was about to mention the demonstration she had seen on the news just earlier, there was a loud thud that garnered everyone's attention. She looked in the direction of the sound and spotted one man standing by Sam's window. “Yo, ladies! You guys going to the demonstration? Bet it’s about to get get crazy out there.”

Kera spared a glance at her currently open window and briefly eyed the other man. She forced a small smile. Grunge was most definitely not her thing. No, she liked it when guys actually took somewhat care of themselves.

"So who side are you guys on?” The guy at her door spoke up.

And then Colin had to continue the previously one-sided conversation. "What’s going on again?”

She looked back at her friend in the back seat. "Something about superheroes having to register with the government."

As she faced forward again, she caught sight of the guy getting a small gleam in his eyes and leaning forward toward her. She hesitated a brief moment, making sure her thoughts about his sloppy appearance wouldn't show on her face. She smiled faintly.

"What does it really matter in the end, right? It's not like we ever see anything interesting out here." Kera commented, her tone casually brushing it off.

Tag: greyjedi125

 

GM Approved Supplemental Post

IC: Rupert fforbes-Hamilton.
Sunnyvale House, Maryland.


Day 1501 - Mid-Morning.

Times here are rather relative, DR, so don't get too confused. We tend to get woken up at around six-o'clock sharp so the Staff can assist those who are even more broken-bodied than I am with their ablutions and dressing. I don't begrudge them, but it does make for rather long 'mornings'. Breakfast is usually served from half-past-seven onwards, leaving time for the 'Torture Squad' (Staff Physio- and Occupational Therapists) to do their rounds before lunch.

Those protests on the News this morning looked far too slick to be spontaneous - one has to wonder who instigated them and why. Counter-demonstrations too, matching both day and time. Looking suspicious? Or am I being paranoid?

As yet, I haven't seen any places/buildings I recognise; nor have I heard 'Baltimore' mentioned by name on any News Channel - and I've been surfing them. Could it be that there aren't any protests/protesters in the local area today? Perhaps later on, or tomorrow, if things keep going the way they seem to be.

I had to have a quiet word with the Administrator about that new girl. Asked him to gently point out to her that the name I answer to is 'fforbes-Hamilton', hyphenated, starting with two lower-case 'f's! Be calling me 'Rupert' next, I wouldn't wonder, and us not even introduced! She's probably just a very caring and genuine young woman; however, these places tend to attract their share of 'gold-diggers' as well. I was warned about that. Some of them can try to make false claims of intimacy, even of pregnancy, later on. She'll be in for a shock if she does try it on without doing proper research.... Nothing below my waist works quite as it should any more, as the Docs are well aware!

There'll be no opportunity for practice tonight, I'm thinking. It's too wet for me to take my bed-chair outside and wet/muddy tyre tracks on the flooring would be a dead give-away that I've been out and about after curfew. It's rather frowned upon! The TV says it'll be better weather tomorrow, though.

Indoor practice, even in the conservatory, is too risky. One of my 'creations', fortunately a small one, collapsed before I could get all of it back into the planter, leaving a noticeable quantity of dirt on the floor despite my best efforts at cleaning it up. I'm sorry to say that poor, innocent, Rufus took the blame for that one. By way of apology, I treated him to a home-cooked fish-dinner and moved all my subsequent practice sessions out-of-doors. Little tykes from around the neighbourhood regularly trash one or two of the flowerbeds, anyway, so I tend to use those.

Rufus? That, DR, is my name for a reddish-ginger Tomcat who often spends time with me.

​

He likes to be petted, eat a handful of Cat Treats and then enjoy a snooze on my lap. With me, he purrs loud and long; with the 'Head Torturer' (Senior Physiotherapist) he goes into full threat display for some reason. Arched back, really loud hissing and spitting, the works! The 'HT' seems very wary of him but I've seen no sign that he'd take things any further. Can make 'Exercise Time' rather entertaining, though. Quite often she simply beats a hasty retreat and comes back later if/when she thinks the coast is clear!

My arm exercises are the only ones I care about, anyway. Why bother with trying to work muscle tone into my legs? Every doctor I've consulted has said I've no hope of ever using them again.

The only time Rufus gets at all anxious in my company is when I use my ability. Then he fluffs his fur right up to make him look far bigger than he is. But he doesn't run away. I think he realises that I'd never hurt him. Peculiar that he can sense what I'm doing, though.

Rufus might have a Meta-Feline ability of his own, unless all cats can sense, at a distance, when they're needed by someone. He's one of the reasons why I didn't just give up soon after I got here. I don't know what he's called by his 'owners', but he answers to 'Rufus' for me!



TAG: greyjedi125

 

IC: Blueline
Near Union Square Park, NYC

As Blue steeled himself for a brawl, three on one not the worst he's faced, another person stepped in front of him hands up not threatening the protesters ,"Woah GUYS! Guys…" He started. "nobody here really wants to spend time with the boys in blue over this OK. This is still a place where we are all entitled to our opinions…"

A laugh emanated from the lead antagonist, he didn't seem to be worried about the police at all. "Damn! Another hero? Which one are you?"

A thought ran through the young man's mind, was this person a hero or just a Good Samaritan. Looking around it seemed the crowd was moving on, maybe without an audience tempers would cool.

"…so yea, we were leaving anyhow." Blue's eyebrow rose, when did it become we? The other 'Hero' turned around, first thing Blue noticed was his eyes, a silvery blue, a bit of black hair peeked out from under a baseball cap. The man's features seemed recognizable, though Blue was sure he'd never met this individual. "Come on guys let’s get out of here…I really need some pizza now." The stranger just said the magic word, pizza. It was a food Blue always loved and it had been a year or more since he'd had even a slice. His stomach growled more at the thought.

"If you're buy…" Blue cut himself off noticing one of the protesters, drawing his fist back, aiming for the man that had turned away. The masked hero quickly stepped around hoping to put his head in the path. He and the stranger that intervened were around the same height. He braced himself for a strike that never came. A meaty hand, attached to a similarly large arm and body stopped the fist in its tracks. The large man had on a leather jacket similar to the kind bikers wore, a large white M on the back of it. Two more similarly attired persons approached as the big guy turned,

"Go." He said in a rumbling voice, not letting go of the protester's arm. Cameras were out and filming the altercation, it appeared whoever these people were they didn't need Blue here to keep them safe and they seemed to be doing a good job of 'Policing' the crowd. They didn't seem to be indiscriminately attacking Pro-registration protesters, only the ones that were causing trouble. Blue felt ok leaving them in the crowd.

That was until he heard a female voice sail over the crowd. "Leave me alone!! Please!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!" Without a second thought Blue began muscling his way through the crowd, following in the wake that the biker woman had left. As he got closer he saw people throwing food, and other items at the girl.

With a back handed slap Blue knocked a cup out of one of the hecklers hand. He didn't wait to hear what the person was gong to say. Once past the crowd the young man did what he could to shield the teen curled on the ground around a bag of some sort. Unaware of what was going on around him he heard screams and people running, at least he wasn't being pelted with objects any more. He knelt down in front of the girl.

"Hey, you alright?" he reached his left hand forward to remove a fry that had gotten into her hair. A wide blue eye snapped open.

"Don't," was all she said before her fist struck him in the chest. The wind was knocked out of him, and he felt a rib crack. Pain shot through him, it was a familiar pain, didn't mean he could just shrug it off. He felt the rib heal and he took a deep breath. This girl packs a punch.

"It's alright, you're ok now." He kept his voice as calm as possible, despite the screams and fear around him.

"No," she said, voice quivering, "I'll hurt you, I'll hurt them." Her one visible eye darted towards the fleeing crowd.

He gently removed the fry from her blonde hair. Much to his surprise she didn't punch him, again. "I'm pretty hard to break. And they seem more afraid of our friends here." He threw his head towards the woman with the white M on her back. As lightly as he could he put a hand on her shoulder, which the girl moved away. "Hey, what do you say we get out of here?" He extended his right hand, handcuffs dangling from his wrist, trying to get this poor girl to open up. Her shaking hand reached up and gripped his, nearly breaking more of his bones. The grip tightened as he helped get her to her feet. Her other hand was still wrapped around her bag, the knuckles on that hand were white from holding so tightly.

"I just want this to stop." She said voice racked with fear.

"It will," Blue replied nodding his head. He looked over his shoulder to where the debater and the stranger were, "Let's get out of here." With that said he began guiding the girl out of the area. "My name's Blueline."

"Casey." he could see her blue eyes shrinking a bit, maybe she was finally calming down. In that moment, the chaos, the protests, it didn't matter, all that mattered was getting Casey away from the crowd. She broke his rib with a single punch, he didn't want to see what she could do to a normal person. He couldn't let that happen, she was possibly more dangerous than 'Wall', she didn't have control.

TAG: Ameteth greyjedi125

_____
Secondary Character Sheet Approved by GM

Name: Casey Sark

Codename: None

Gender: Female

Age: 16

Hair: Blonde

Eyes: Blue

Height: 5'11”

Weight: 90 lbs. Normally (see Metahuman ability)

Likes: Quiet, writing in her journal, watching Law& Order, helping people (when she can)

Dislikes: Large groups of people, cats, and creepy men

Personality: Quiet, shy, keeps to herself and stays away from others. Her aloofness and emotional distance is a defense mechanism, she's lost everyone in her life, she doesn't want to feel that pain again.

Appearance: Plain looking with her blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail. Her eyes are usually wide with barely controlled fear. She wears an orange short sleeved t-shirt over a white long-sleeved shirt, a burnt orange hoodie, blue jeans and black sneakers complete her usual outfit.

Spoiler: Appearance

Artist Credit: Shannon Houser

Inks and cleanup: My Brother

Metahuman ability: Increased strength and density linked to flight-or-fight response

Stance: Unregistered and unsure

Bio: Casey was born into a loving home and was an absolute daddy's girl. Her father, Samuel Sark, was a solider and her protector. When she'd cry at night because of nightmares or monsters in her room, he was always there, beating the monsters back or banishing the darkness away. She loved him and missed him fiercely when he was gone. He was never deployed overseas nor was he transferred from base to base so she never experienced the 'Army Brat' lifestyle so many of the other kids she knew did. Until one day her father died, it wasn't in combat or an accident, the doctors said it was a brain aneurism. The way they explained it to her was that a weak blood vessel popped in his head and he died soon after. Young Casey didn't believe this, her father was a mountain of a man, his arms wrapped around her like a stone wall and she'd seen do great feats of strength without breaking a sweat. So to think that he was killed by a weak blood vessel was impossible for her to process.

Without her protector the nightmares became worse and nearly unending, when she'd cry it was only her mother who came to her aid. Her mother did what she could staying up all night with her watching old re-runs of Law & Order trying to comfort her. It helped but, never banished the terrors like her father's heartbeat or his rumbling words. One day after school Casey was cutting an apple, something she'd done before, but this time her hand slipped and she cut herself. She stood there frozen, staring at the wound and the crimson blood that leaked from it. A chilling, irrational, fear grew inside her. When her mother put a hand on her shoulder Casey whipped around slapping her mother with an open hand. Next the young girl threw her own flesh and blood into the stove shattering her mom's vertebrae and paralyzing her from the waist down.

After the fear had faded from her mind Casey threw up, she'd just harmed the only person remaining in her life that cared for her. She felt like a monster, like some beast that needed to be put down. She couldn't stay in that house, not where she could hurt her mother again. She called 911 and rushed upstairs to pack a bag, she was heading to the city and maybe catch a train or a bus or whatever she needed to so as get far away from people. Her mother told her everything was going to be alright, that she didn't need to run away, but that was all she could do.

With what money she had she made her way into NYC with the hopes of finding a way to make it further, she got lost and ending up near Union Square Park, right in the middle of a crowd of angry people.

 

Gami
Wooden Tree House, Maine


Gami was about to race ahead, when Issac called out, "That's all right, next time. Lets just enjoy the walk." She pouted slightly, before she nodded, and started walking. They walked at a brisk pace, still they came close to the the old field of dandelions. Momma Woodlin often enjoyed walks through this field. Gami didnt argue the fact, and walked happily. The entire area looked like a scene from some old painting, and sometimes they were even lucky enough to see a few animals in the area, as the berries drew a few hungry creatures around as well.

It didn’t take long for them to reach berry patch. Gami pulled out a small bag, and began to gather berries, taking the time to snag a few for herself as well. After all, berry picking was hard work. She was in such a good mood, that at first she didnt notice anything different in the surrounding area. But then she heard it. Two whispering voices. One distinctly female and the other male. They sounded close. Gami froze for a moment, looking over at Isaac, to see if he heard anything as well. As she moved to crouched down, she saw that Issac was already down as well, so he had heard the voices as well.

Gami watched as Issac held out his arm as if to bar her way. She wasnt going to argue, she planned on not moving at the moment. Issac then turned his head towards her. "I'll handle this, just don't move or make a sound for a second, ok?" he whispered as low as he could. Gami just silently nodded, wondering what he was planning. She watched as Isaac closed his eyes. He seemed to be listening intently for something. Or praying. So Gami kept her eyes open, watching around them to make sure nothing snuck up on them, while Issac continued to do whatever it was he was doing. Gami heard the voices talk about selling something they had found, and getting rich. She just hoped it was something simple, and would not bring bad stuff close. Infighting was never a good thing.




Tag: Darth_Elu, greyjedi125

 

Blueline & Zephyr Vaillancourt
Union Square Park, NYC



We MUST get OUT. That was the only thing that mattered at that moment.

The demonstration had gone from volatile to near riot and Zephyr wanted to be annoyed at the whole thing; he was finally getting to see other metas in action, but this scene was the farthest thing from any of his wildest imaginations. Ironically, this riot would probably have proved exciting in the more ‘innocent’ pre-SRA days, but today…this riot was one of the worst places for any meta to be in, hero or otherwise.

He was glad to have been able to reach Zack; he was still in one piece and probably thanks to courage and heroic intervention of a mysterious young man who obscured his identity with a blue bandana.

The youth had placed himself in front of his friend, and was about to shield him from a possible beating. Zephyr had repeatedly warned Zack against starting and winning arguments with the excitable and ‘misinformed’. But much like their video game matches, Zack loved to win, but in real life, the results were not always the same.

So Zack’s rescue was a good thing, especially since they got to meet the bandana guy who seemed to be a person of uncommonly good character. Well, maybe it was to soon to tell, the disrepair of his clothing might be indicative of a violent streak or poor taste in fashion.
The fact of the matter was that proper thanks should be given, and Zephyr wanted to show his gratitude for the timely intervention. However, there was the small detail of the world around them exploding into chaos.

“Leave me alone!! Please!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!”

Bandana guy quickly moved to assist and protect the distressed girl.
With a short sigh Zephyr had followed and stood in front to provide cover. Getting out was taking longer than he liked but he couldn’t leave just yet. He didn’t like all the camera phones that were out recording everything, so he pulled his cap further down to obscure his face. He listened to the conversation in order to anticipate any complications, like a need for an ambulance should the girl require one.

The blonde young lady had been screaming as some Reed Richards wanna-be pointed some inelegant contraption that made Zephyr’s blood run cold. That was a mutant detector. The dish part of the gadget whirled and lights beeped as he pointed it at the girl and yelled out, almost cackling at his discovery (or that his thingie majiggy actually worked).

“I think we have a live one! She’s making it go off! she’s a freaking mutant!!”

Zephyr’s alarm grew as the guy’s behavior reminded him of the ‘Hounds’ he’d heard about. Hounds were agents who hunted mutants, either by employing advanced tech (rumored to be Stark or stolen Reed Richard’s designs) or mutants themselves, using their superhuman tracking abilities or special mutant abilities to pursue their quarry.

This was NOT a good sign, usually when a hound was around, not far behind one could be guaranteed to find…

“Sentinels…” the thought fired up Zephyr’s sense of urgency to the next level.

Thrill and disgust were clearly communicated, and Zephyr almost cheered when a fierce looking woman punched the gadget guy out cold.

Just One Punch tho...wow.

It looked like she was with the huge mountain of muscles that had handled and disposed of the hotheaded bully protestor that basically started all this.

They had painted the letter ‘M’ on the back of their leather jackets and vests, definitely a symbol of some sort. Were they ‘Morlocks’, or perhaps followers of ‘Magneto’, ‘Marauders’, ‘Manhunters’…there was too much he didn’t know, but by the ease with which they handled the two undesirables, they were most likely metas.

The strong woman went to kick the unconscious ‘hound’ but was blocked by a young man wearing a blue t-shirt with a white star inside a circle. It was very reminiscent of Captain America; this was probably a follower of Cap’s ways.

Again Zephyr felt like cheering, but it was all becoming a bit confusing.

The woman had called out to her muscle bound companion…more like called and given instructions with her tone. A simple word “Wall”, and he had tossed a fully-grown meathead like a ragdoll, right into the midst of other protestors. These ‘M’ guys were very comfortable with doling out violence for the look of things.

This all happened so quickly that it was spiraling out of control, no doubt the police and SHIELD would spring to action soon, if they hadn’t done so already.

The strong ‘M’ lady’s cool demeanor gave Zephyr and idea.

“OK, here’s the plan… I know the shortest way out of here, I’ll lead, Blue, cover the rear, keep the girl and Zack in the middle, let’s stick together.”

He looked ‘Blue’ in the eye to see if he understood and consented to this plan. Even tho he had overheard the conversation between ‘Blue’ and the girl, he felt bad for using the name without proper introductions, but there was no time at present for social pleasantries, things were probably about to get really ugly.

“Between those guys …” he said motioning with his head towards the ‘M’ gang and “that blasted thing…” now pointing almost accusingly at the unattended ‘mutant detector’ pinging on the floor not too far from them “ we have NO time to spare, we must leave now!”

“By the way, my name’s Zephyr and yes, I’m buying.” and with a quick reassuring smile, Zephyr moved forward, using his hybrid strength and martial knowledge to navigate the sea of rioting bodies that blocked their path. Redirecting and deftly nudging the trajectory of people ahead, it was all a matter of deflecting momentum, his powers would probably had facilitated the entire process, but the image of that crude ‘mutant detector’ kept him cautious.

If all went well, he’d be able to laugh this one off as one of those crazy experiences in NYC.



TAG: greyjedi125, galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: SGC 28.57^3
Outskirts of Latveria

Panic, fear. Gripping emotions, that slowed him. Caused him pause and leave of rational. It was not until he nearly had finished his hideaway that the words of his Amic pieced through to his rational mind. His digging slowed and he slumped against the ground breathing heavily, his lungs working hard, slowing as they recovered from the frenzied exertion.

Looking at the nearly completed dig he breathed the musky earth and slowly backed up. Bumping slightly his rear legs past Erasmus. "Gypsy's? I do not know them. Can they help?" he yearned that they could. Could they really help him be free? Could Erasmus truly lead him to a place free of this? Erasmus who could not see. . .who could not see.

"I. . .am not beautiful. Not like you. Will Gypsies help. . .someone ugly like me?" Now he stared at his friend. Noting the differences. Where he wore clothes that were fitted to him, sewn and sized. SGC wore blankets and stray cloth strapped to his body, the rags of his lab uniform were stored in his make shift satchel along with the few items and pieces of equipment he kept from when he escaped the ruins of the lab. Where Erasmus had shoes his own feet were bare, with splayed toes upon the ground.

Reaching out, he knew what he had to do. He stood several feet back and extended his folded right arm. Hand out. "My hand is in front of you. Take it. Tell me, will Gypsy's help one ugly like me?"

TAG: greyjedi125