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🎨 Creative "O.G./Next Generation" Draft!

Eric the .5b

It's all so esoteric
Validated User
T Troy Swain , that's a fun, if possibly apocalyptic setup. and NightGoblyn NightGoblyn , that's kind of a great fake out, halfway through.

(Also, I take it this is a world where Richard Reed hasn't been allowed to be useless. :D )
 

Airk

Your resident Norwegian
Validated User
They were almost there when he fell asleep. By then they had carried him through the tunnels for hours. First, the ancient and forgotten hidden entrance by the ruined manor and its cramped, earthen tunnels. Then, the sewer main lines, stinking and oppressive. The storm drains. And then... then he had begun recognizing places. Not that he said anything - he never did. He might no longer know how - but it was there by the light in his red eyes, the agitation and set of his chalk-white face.

He fell asleep in the makeshift carrier they had made to transport him. He could still walk a little, but this trip had been beyond him for years; certainly for longer than any of the band had known him. They carried him gently, carefully. Not only was it wise - old and crippled as he was, his arms still held a surprising strenght, and the feral instincts he always held in check sometimes overpowered him in the daze of half-waking - but none of them had the heart to wake him. Thirty years on and more, and the tunnels still bore the scars of desperate battle; bullet holes, walls torn down by near-unimaginable strenght...

More than thirty years ago, these tunnels had been washed in blood and scoured clean by lightning. Gods both mortal and divine had done battle here, and in the end left nothing but steel and concrete. Not even ashes.

Nothing but what they brought.

Evelyn found the room. She had been in his mind and seen it, and despite nothing remaining, it was here. They had most of what they had brought assembled before he woke.

He still didn't speak. They hadn't expected him to. But his feral, shining eyes flowed over with tears.

Thirty years gone, and Caliban, once Morlock, once X-Man, once Hound and Horseman... was home.

CarpeGuitarrem CarpeGuitarrem , you're up!
 

HNutz

Knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men!
Validated User
Nice!

Just a reminder, you can post an "Old Guy/Gal" (or, really, ANY preexisting character) or an Original Character this round. Or any round.

As long as you have at least 1 OG picked at some point. You can have up to 4.
 
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Airk

Your resident Norwegian
Validated User
Forgot to mention, my piece assumes the Morlock Tunnels have been empty since the Massacre, but that's a big place. Parts of it can certainly have been used since without my crew having discovered it yet, so if they could be useful, go ahead and use :)
 

HNutz

Knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men!
Validated User
That's mighty nice of you! :)

Between that and the Hulk Virus, we have some ideas to build on!
 

Airk

Your resident Norwegian
Validated User
Well, we have the Hulk Virus, an apparent new wave of young, organized criminals, forces pushing for active meta/mutant integration in the military (and probably a countermovement against it) - and a small group feeling so outside it all that they relocate to the Morlock Tunnels. Plenty of fun.

Also, we have some named, new superteams, and we know Reed Richards is active (but possibly presumed dead).
 
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HNutz

Knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men!
Validated User
Well, we have the Hulk Virus, an apparent new wave of young, organized criminals, forces pushing for active metall/mutant integration in the military (and probably a countermovement against it) - and a small group feeling so outside it all that they relocate to the Morlock Tunnels. Plenty of fun.

Also, we have some named, new superteams, and we know Reed Richards is active (but possibly presumed dead).
Not bad for 4 posts. :)

CarpeGuitarrem CarpeGuitarrem has about 16 hours to go, followed by beachnik beachnik , me and Shawn_Hagen Shawn_Hagen .
 

beachnik

Man of Action!
Validated User
"Who'd a thunk it though? All our travels, all our adventures. All the times we almost... heck, all the times we did die. Who'd a thunk that one day... it'd stick?"
The street lamps bathe the cemetery in a sepia hue, as a huge man comically squashed into a folding chair leans back and releases a plume of cigar smoke skywards.

"You told me, one time, that I don't age. That these old bones don't get no older. I'm not sure that's true. I feel older. Mebbe it's just 'cause I been watchin' folks gettin' older, an' it's catchin'. Or maybe it's just 'cause I've seen a few too many folks check out. Mebbe I'm just tired of all this... everythin'"

The folding chair squeaks and squeals in protest as he leans forward.

"It's just... it's not enough that I'm... me, but I gotta stick around while everyone I know goes?"

He glances to the side, seeing the Baxter building standing tall, but the giant 4 that once shone out into the night has been dark for years.

"It's a bum rap bein' a hero."

Awkwardly he levers himself out of the folding chair which with one last metallic squawk collapses into a pile of misshapen, twisted metal.

"What a revoltin' development."

One large hand reaches down and throws the remains into a pile of older, but equally destroyed, furniture.

Muttering darkly to himself he pulls up the collar of his trenchcoat, hunches beneath his hat, and stalks out onto the streets.

Suddenly a high pitched scream snaps him from his reverie, and his brows furrow as he spots a winged shape swoop between buildings, snatching someone from the streets.
For a moment he hesitates. He's retired, long since retired. Being a hero is a young man's game, and he's certainly no spring chicken.

But only a moment.

He springs forth, casting aside the wide brimmed hat and trenchcoat, revealing rocky, craggy skin beneath.

"Hey! Bird boy! Why don't'cha come down here and get what's comin' to ya!"

Alarmed, the winged figure turns in mid-air as a thrown manhole cover flies past, inches from its head.

"IT'S CLOBBERIN' TIME!"

OOC: That's right boys and girls, Aunt Petunia's favourite nephew is still around and kickin'. Ben Grimm, a.k.a. The Thing is coming out of retirement.
 
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