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Man of Action!
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"So you used to live here?" Lily asked, taking in the penthouse floors of the Baxter Building.

"Yup. For a long time. Haven't been back here in... a while." Ben replied, gently depositing Carver onto a bed in one of the rooms and emerging out into the common area.

"How come?"

"No. You 'n me are gonna have a talk about what's goin' on. This time without any dragons or nothin' to distract us. Why are you here, and what in the heck is goin' on?"

"...I'm looking for my brother."

In fits and starts the story came out. Of the two children of Diablo, twins, a boy and a girl. Of the experiments performed on them. Of the sick mind pitting one sibling against the other again, and again in a sick game to win the approval of a sadistic father. Of the changes they both went through, and of how one day the brother left, using the strange gifts given to him by the experiments of his father to escape. Of how the triumph of having all of their father's attention was a poison chalice that left Lily desperate to leave, to escape.

And of how one night, after a struggle against her father that almost claimed her life, she was able to.

She lived rough for a time, but soon found that her "gifts" for alchemy allowed her to follow the sparse clues left by her brother. Clues which lead her here, to Manhattan.

"So why d'ya think he came here? The sights?"

"...I think he was looking for you? Well... not you specifically, the Fantastic Four?"

"...we're ancient history, darlin'. And 'sides, it's just me left now. Can't really be the Fantastic One now, can I?"

"You're one of the only people that my father was frightened of. I think Miguel was hoping you'd... do something."

"I'm outta the hero game. Too old, too grumpy, and sure as heck too ugly."

"Awww Ben... you never let being ugly stop you before!" a cheerful voice interjects.

"Who in tha... why I mighta thought it'd be you, pipsqueak." Ben growls good naturedly, as a well-dressed man walking with the assistance of a cane enters smiling broadly.

"Good to see you, Ben."

"You too, Parker. How'd you know I was 'ere?"

"I do own the building, Ben. Or at least my company does. Someone mentioned to me that there was some massive, ugly movement on the security cameras. Decided to pop up and see for myself."

"Yeh, just keep pushin' your luck. See where it gets ya."


Sometime later, the two older men find themselves on the balcony watching the city lights as dusk falls. Cigar smoke gently rises into the sky, and the clink of icecubes in glasses is the only sound. Until...

"So seriously, are you coming out of retirement?" Peter asks.

"Naw. Just saw her," Ben says nodding towards Lily as she tended to Carver, "gettin' swiped by some flyin' thing. Had a rush of blood to the head, one thin' led to another..."

"So what's their story?"

"Messed up kids from a messed up dad. But y'know with all this," Ben said as he waved non-specifically at the various pictures of the Fantastic Four, "mixed in too."

"Y'know, I wasn't much older than they look when I got wrapped up in all this nonsense. And I made a hell of a lot of mistakes, things I wish I could take back. I really wished I'd just listened to what my uncle told me, without having to learn it the hard way," pausing to take a sip of whiskey, "Heh, his name was Ben too."

"What are ya sayin' Pete?"

"I'm saying, even if you are staying retired, these kids are about to walk into a very scary world where their actions are going to have all kind of consequences. They're going to have to make some really hard choices. Would be good for them to have someone around to show them the ropes."

"Even someone like me?"

"Especially someone like you, Ben. You've seen it all, you've seen what this life costs people, what it takes to do the right thing, again, and again, and again. I'm not saying pull on the blue trunks and go clobberin'. Just be a guiding hand."

"I'll think about it."

"You do that. Anyway, I've go to get out of here. Promised MJ I'd be home hours ago."

"Hey Pete... whatcha doin' on Tuesday?"

"Tuesday? Not much. Company pretty much runs itself these days, I'm basically just a figurehead."

"...fancy comin' over for a game of poker?"

The invitation hung in the air for a moment, before a broad grin broke on Peter's face.

"Whew... I don't know Ben. Can you afford to start losing that kind of money again?"

"Why you little.... last I checked you still owed me a fair chunk o' change!"

"Oh please, like I couldn't beat someone who literally has rocks for brains at poker."

Giggling madly, and limping with surprising speed Peter Parker made good his escape into the elevator, making faces as the doors closed.

"What was all that about?" Lily asked the grinning Ben, who quickly dropped the expression.

"Oh, nothin'. Just catchin' up with an old friend. How's our new friend?"

"He's not in great shape. I mean, the elixir I've made has repaired what happened with the car, but he was still pretty beat up before then."

"Yeah, I saw. Still, he's a tough kid. He'll pull through."

So Lily has come to Manhattan looking for her brother Miguel, who left Diablo's clutches some time ago.
Meanwhile, Ben has a heart-to-heart with an old friend in Peter Parker, CEO of Parker Industries, who now happens to own the Baxter Building.
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Shawnya the Evil?
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Old Man Rocket Filler #8

Spoiler: Show

Club #3 was named so because it had been built in the old loading bay #3. The owner was not know for being creative. It was part bar, casino, restaurant and part other entertainments, some less savory than others.

Rocket liked it and had introduced the members of his new squadron to it. After the first night he had told Adisa to gamble elsewhere before they got banned.

It was where they went to celebrate and plan after their latest victory.

“Piracy and other attacks are down by more than half,” Rocket told them. “With that carrier blown up it might drop further.” He picked up his mug from the table and took a long drink, then wiped the foam away from his whiskers and muzzle. “But we need to know where this is all coming from.”

“I am working on it Tanuki,” Miki told him. “That carrier was old and its navigation logs are a mess of encrypted data.”

“Don’t let Rocket bully you Miki,” Ramona said. She had had a few drinks by then. “He’s a mean raccoon.”

“Well, we got time,” Rocket said, taking another pull as his drink, ignoring Ramona’s jab.

“Sure of that?” Per asked.

Rocket followed her gaze to the front of the club where Captain Baabob and a squad of his sex bots reprogrammed to battle bots had entered. “What’s that krutacking wraith licker doing here?”

Baabob, dressed in all his military finery, walked crisply to where Rocket and the others sat. As he closed the sex bots lifted their guns.

“Yeah,” Rocket said as he finished his drink, “that ain’t good.”

“Why do his soldiers look like sex dolls?” Adisa asked.

“Cause they are,” Rocket told him.


“Cause used sex bots are cheap.”


“Cause Baabob is cheap as he is stupid.”

“Hold your tongue vermin or I will have it removed,” Baabob said as he closed on them

“He’s gonna die badly,” Per said softly.

“Is there a way to die good?” Ramona asked almost as softly.

“Not with Rocket’s teeth buried in your liver.”


“I will have those Shi-ar ships you are using,” Baabob said.

“You’ll have my teeth in your throat,” Rocket countered. “They are my ships.”

“They are property of the Shi-at empire and as a duly appointed representative I am claiming them.”

“The Shi-ar might have ponied up the dough to pay for them, and provided some ot the tech, but apparently it is all Earth genius that built them. Push off.”

“Earth? Don’t try to make me laugh vermin.”

“Call me that one more time,” Rocket said, slipping from his chair and looking up at Baabob.

The sex bots pointed their guns at Rocket, though a few were holding them like they were paddles.

“Vermin,” Baabob said.

Rocket climbed up Baabob, like the Shi-ar was a tree and then bit off one of his ears off.

He landed behind the man and loudly chewed and swallowed the ear. “Needs tabasco.”

“I think I might puke,” Ramona said.

“That was unpleasant,” Adisa said.

“I always wondered what Shi-ar tasted like,” Per said.

“Kill them all,” Baabo ordered, hand up the mangled remains of his ear.

The sex bots did not move.

“I said kill them all!”

“There’s an old saying,” Rocket said, spitting bits of cartilage on the floor. “Never bring a sex bot to a technopath fight.”

“Is that really a saying?” Miki asked.

“I’d like to think so.”

The sex bots, all now holding their weapons correctly, turned their guns on Baabob.

“What did you say about Earth?” Miki asked.

Baabob’s answer, whatever it might have been, was lost by shrieking of alarms and the shaking of the planet.

“What in the Krutackin’ Brood Bottom is happening now?” Rocket asked.

Out in the Shatter the Empress of the Fallen and Forgotten sped through space, surrounded by grave flames. Like a dwarf star she pulled the debris and gasses of the Shatter around her as she passed on her way in system.

The gravitational shear of the growing mass was starting to pull gas from the star, which ignited in long streamers plasma that flooded the system with high energy particles.

It was not going to be a good day for anyone in the Shatter.

Though it was not going to be a long one either.


Your resident Norwegian
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Gah, everything suddenly happened at once. Working on a fic that needs to go through Myth's approval, but my pic is the team name - The Morlocks

Troy Swain

Registered User
Validated User
A Very Bad Morning
Part Nine | New York City, 2010

OOC: Previously: The Hulk Virus rages throughout the US. Quarantines are enforced, but the virus spreads. The military and super-organizations struggle to keep up, but Dr. Reed Richards (presumed dead) and the WCA (West Coast Avengers) are able to stay one step ahead of the outbreaks.
Every year, on March 7th, Ty Johnson, formerly Cloak, goes to the same corner in Koreatown. He dances in a sad ritual from sunup to sundown.
The young woman formerly known as Shi Min, The Personator, stalks Las Vegas, unseen. She searches out an artificial sun hovering in the desert.
Meanwhile, João Desforra, The Rider, leads a cult in the Bronx that spreads throughout the Northeast.
And Aisha Ghatak, Preta, is a zed, a power eradicator. She used to be friends with Shi Min, but no longer remembers her. After The Civil War, she works as a mercenary. For now, she works for The Rider, João. To those with powers, she has no face and is blindingly white.

The Baxter Building, FF Headquarters

Aisha Ghatak nervously twirls a pencil, and then taps out a beat on the desk. Dr. Richards is puttering around with a bunch of graphs on a holoscreen.

Aisha has spent the last two weeks in Dr. Richard’s lab, endlessly tested; endlessly placed in an fMRI, DQEs, and hooked up to iEPD. Many doctors and scientists have come and gone.

A few days ago, she met Tony Stark! He’s old, balding, with a deeply lined face, but still in shape, and damn, he is still fine. He was helping Dr. Richards and they were clearly talking about her case. Mr. Stark came into her room and was exceedingly charming, and he flirted with her outrageously. She held his hand far too long and he smiled a knowing smile, and brushed hair out of her face with his free hand. “You’re in good hands,” he said.
“I know,” she said as she squeezed his hand.
He smiled. Such a warm confident smile. Rakish. “Under different circumstance, Ms. Ghatak,” he said with a wink. And then he left.
Aisha wondered if Tony Stark could see her face. Or if he saw her no-face like other people with powers. Was Mr. Stark a mutant? Did he have powers? She did’t know.

Last week she was poked at and prodded by a woman who reminded Aisha of her mom. Someone named Dr. Rao. Dr. Rao avoided Aisha and refused to make small talk. Aisha hated her. But she loves a friendly Scottish scientist who is still around, and who seems close to every scientist and doctor who comes by. She is a squat white haired lady named Dr. MacTaggert. Also, another older doctor who Aisha is pretty sure is named Dr. Banner has stopped in from time to time. He is small and sickly. All of the scientists are really old.

Today Dr. Richards comes in, followed by Dr. MacTaggert. Both look grave. Uh oh. Dr. Richards sits down next to her. Shit, he never does this. Dr. Richards doesn’t have a ‘bedside manner,’ unless a rock can be considered friendly. Shit, his face. He clearly has horrible news. Dr. MacTaggert sits down on her other side. Shit. Their expressions… They have something terrible to tell her.

“Just say it,” says Aisha.
Dr. Richards takes a deep breath.
“Please,” says Aisha.
“We think…” says Dr. MacTaggert, “We think something about your… condition is… well, something about your condition wipes out your… personhood, as seen by others.”
“My personhood as seen by others?” asks Aisha.
“The perception and memory of your selfhood,” says Dr. Richards, “Or, the perception of your self in others.”
“Well,” says Dr. MacTaggert in her pretty Scottish accent, “We know that your condition erases ‘powers’—”
“Our current hypothesis is that it is a type of localized lock down on your proximate reality to Newtonian physics,” adds Dr. Richards.
“—and we believe your condition also erases other people’s sense of your identity.”
“You might be… forgotten. By everyone around you.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“It means,” says a concerned looking Dr. Richards, “That people will see you, but they won't construct memories based around your identity.”
“Jesus. Everyone will forget me?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Do you not remember me?”
“We… we take notes,” says Dr. MacTaggert.
“Oh my god. You don’t remember me?”
“Not consciously, I’m afraid.”
“Do I look like… someone without a face?”
“Not to me,” says Dr. MacTaggert.
“Yes,” says Dr. Richards. “To all who have ‘powers.’ Possibly users of ‘magic’ as well. Probably also to ‘godlike’ beings.”
“And my friends? Family?”
“If they are not powered, then they should be able to see your face… But we worry that they will cease to remember who you are.”
“My mommy?”
Dr. MacTaggert grabs her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“We…” adds Dr. Richards, “We’re doing tests. I’m sorry. But… We are working on it.”

Part Nine | LA (Koreatown), 2010

The Creature swarms over the high-rises, a mess of luminescent black tendrils and shimmering maws. It is a stain on reality; painful to look at; gibbering sounds that warp the psyche and draw blood and pain from orifices. The world rips around The Creature as if it were a black hole. The taller buildings next to it rip apart, spilling upward into its hungry mouths in a lazy spiral of destruction. Concrete, rebar, shattered windows all spill into the creature— who is a rip in the sky.

Nearly every superhero on the planet is here.
They were forewarned by the Shi’ar and the Kree that it was coming.

The superheroes fight desperately against The Creature, but it spills out endless tiny versions of itself, and the situation is dire.

“We need to keep It in the bubble, Cap! It can not leave our atmosphere!”
“Tony, if this thing leaves—“
“—I get it—”
“—our sun is toast.”
“I get it! Reed, are you blocking access?”
“I hope this works! Locking all dimensional and reality access. Banner?”
“Initiating on my mark… 3, 2, 1, mark.”

The creature howls an indescribable scream that is more like a tortured whale song or a devilish bassoon. A sound felt more than heard. For miles, people are sick. Many of the heroes fall.

The battle rages. Already, many are lost.

“Praxis, stat report!”
“I see solid probability Torch and Sue can keep him contained.”
“Johnny and I are on it!”
“He’s breaking free! I can’t hold him!”
“All with nuclear level flame powers and force powers follow Johnny and Sue!”
“Ben get the hitters on Its minions. Form a perimeter out of everyone else. Clear out civilians. Any word from Strange?”
“Cap, his team is fighting it on another plane. It’s strongest in the, um, Dark Realm.”
“Cap, the X crew said Xavier is rigged up with Jean; they’re ready to use the machine.”
“Initiate. And I have Preta on stand by.”
“Keep her there. We still don’t know how her powers work! We still don’t know if the zeds powers will work on It!”


Blood. Pain. Destruction. Praxis struggles to get up. She coughs blood. Her ribs grind inside her chest. The pain is indescribable. She lies near a young woman who used to be her age. Pretty. Hazel eyes. She is missing her legs. Praxis throws up.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god—“
“Praxis. I need you to keep it together.”
She didn’t even know she was talking out loud. “Stark, part of Koreatown just evaporated. Allofthosepeople!”
“Praxis. Listen to me. Stay in the fight. You can stop more deaths. Keep it together.”
“Ok… Ok… Ok.”
And she flies up, back to the fray.


“Stay on target, Praxis. Reed, I think it’s time for the zed.”
“Clear all supers out of Ground Zero on my mark. All flyers retreat to the Blue Line.”
“We’re not leaving, Reed.”
“Yeah, no way, buddy. Without us, this thing escapes.”
“Listen to me carefully.”
“Reed! Baby, I love you! So much! So, so much. Send in the zed. I love you so much. Do it now!”


In the end only one block was leveled. The superheroes managed to keep the death toll down to 322. But many died in the super community…


OOC: Dr. Reed Richards, aka Mr. Fantastic, ended the Fantastic Four in 2011 after the fight against the Gibbering Creature from The Dark Realm. Sue and Johnny Storm haven't been seen since, and are presumed dead. Ben Grimm and Dr. Richards haven't talked in years. Dr. Richards believes Ben blames him for their deaths. Dr. Richards rarely leaves his lab. These days, Dr. Richards can rarely hold his shape, and generally slops into a blob from, and extends tendrils as he needs them. He has stayed out of the public's sight since the fight of 2011. He now lives in San Fransisco, and has sold the Baxter Building to Parker Industries.

Aisha Ghatak, aka Preta, is a zed who nullifies the powers around her. However, no one remembers her name, nor who she is. And superpowered individuals, or magicians, or anyone who work outside of Newtonian physics, can not see her face, and see her as if she had bright white skin and was wearing blindingly white clothes. She gained her powers in Las Vegas, along with her former friend, Shi Min, The Personator (who no one remembers at all, including Shi Min), and Anok Siddig, who is also known as Praxis, and who is now a well known superhero who leads the WCA. (And who often talks with Dr. Richards.) At some point, Aisha stopped testing with Dr. Richards, and has spent the last several years wandering, acting as a mercenary, without anyone able to remember exactly who she is.

OOC: [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 ]
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