|
|
| The Joker |
| Posted: Sep 27 2009, 12:27 PM |
 |
|
Admin With a Grin
Group: Head Admin
Posts: 2463
Member No.: 1
Joined: 10-December 03
|
Peter Parker - Peter Parker/Spider-Man, Wally West/Flash
Ignite - Mary Jane Watson-Parker, Shayera Hol/Hawkgirl, Mercy Graves
Wade Wilson - Thor, Wade Wilson/Deadpool, Deathstroke
Nightwing - Bruce Wayne/Batman, Matt Murdock/Daredevil
Artificial Idiot - Clark Kent/Superman, Scott Free/Mister Miracle, Wilson Fisk/Kingpin
The Joker - Tony Stark/Iron Man, Lex Luthor, The Joker
If we let this one die too, I'll cry inside. I WILL!
~J~
--------------------
"I never claimed what I did was right, Bats! Just fun!" - The Joker, Batman: Fading Smile |
|
| The Joker |
| Posted: Sep 29 2009, 06:57 PM |
|
|
Admin With a Grin
Group: Head Admin
Posts: 2463
Member No.: 1
Joined: 10-December 03
|
IC: Tony Stark/Iron Man
Stark Tower
New York City, New York
Monday, September 28, 2009 - 9:09am
"So what do you want me to tell the ambassador?" Pepper asks, folding her clipboard up against her chest with a slight sigh. I've been dodging this subject for weeks now, and I think she's grown a little tired of it. Can I help it if I don't always have the answers? Breath takingly handsome genius or no, sometimes even I don't know where things are headed.
I push the glass of iced water in front of me with my knuckles, trying my hardest to think of something before she gets even more angry and pushy than she already is.
"I don't know. Make something up."
She scowls, and the most adorable stress lines appear on her forehead.
"That's not my job, Tony, and you know it."
"Yeah. Well. I had to try, didn't I?" I say, leaning back in my chair, and partially spinning in a circle. "All right. Fine. Tell him that the president doesn't want to take a political stance on this in light of recent economic setbacks, which means that there's nothing I can do for him until he's willing to negotiate the trade."
Her pen quickly glides across her paper, the brief silence between when I'd finished speaking and when she was done writing it down actually a little more awkward than usual. You sleep with someone ONCE, and everything has to get all weird, and uncomfortable. She was the one that called it a mistake that would 'never happen again', and yet she's been nothing but terse and kind of frigid since.
"Okay, and your 9:30 is already here. Do you want me to send him in?"
I look at my watch, the minute hand clicking over to the 12th notch. Eighteen minutes early. I don't know whether I should be annoyed, or grateful that I can get this out of the way sooner rather than later.
"Yeah, go ahead."
Pepper nods, and leaves without another word. It's upsetting to me that this can't be resolved in the same way that I usually handle sticky ex situations... with flowers, and a gift card to her favourite store. No, Pepper is too classy for something like that... I know... because I tried it already. She seemed to get really angry, so for both of our sakes I haven't brought it up again.
"Tony." Urich says immediately upon entering my office, his snake like smile causing an uncontrollable sneer to develop on my face. He extends his hand to shake mine as I stand to greet him, and despite everything in me screaming not to oblige, I do anyway. His hands are dry, and rough to the touch, no doubt because someone like him spends most of his time in people's trees, spying on their personal lives. "How've you been?"
I force a smile on my face, and gesture at him to sit down. I'm not even sure why he's here, really. He's notorious for exposing the city's criminals, and mob leaders. Supposedly with a little help from some of the masked heroes down on his end of town... so why would he come to me? I don't know anything that he doesn't, and even if I did, I don't make a habit of talking to the press without just cause. The only reason he even got an appointment with me today was because Pepper scheduled it without asking... which I think is a direct retaliation for... what we're not talking about.
"I've been better. But I'm sure you knew that."
Ben smiles, and pulls the cushioned seat as close to my desk as possible. He then leans forward on it, placing his elbows just on the edge as he begins to speak again.
"Times are tough for everyone, my friend. I'm not here to bug you about a little stock dip."
Raising an eyebrow, I lower myself back down into my seat, and lean back into a more comfortable position.
"Is that right?"
A mischievous glint sparkles in his eye for a brief moment, and his hand vanishes into his jacket to withdraw a thin silver digital recorder.
"What can you tell me about Stark Industries containers that vanished from-"
"Let me stop you right there, Ben. I've been getting a lot of questions about this supposed theft for the past two weeks, and I'll tell you what I've told everyone else. It isn't true. Every shipment we've sent or received in the last five years has been delivered, and accounted for. I don't know where you heard this, or who your source is, but they're obviously not very trust worthy." I say flatly, folding my hands in front of my face, and frowning. "If that's the reason you came out here today, I'm afraid you've wasted your time."
Urich narrows his gaze at me, and eventually bobs his head up and down as if he's accepting my answer.
"All right. Fine. You can play it that way if you want, but you and I both know you're full of shit, Stark."
"Never said I wasn't." I fire back, pushing myself up out of my chair once more. "Now, if you don't mind... I'm a very busy man."
As he was about to reply with what I have no doubt would have been some kind of underhanded insult, or another blatant assumption about a matter of which he knew nothing about... the office around us fills with a white flash that is so bright, both of us instantly shield our eyes as if staring into the sun.
"What the-"
Urich's alarmed statement is drowned out by an enormous explosion that rocks the entire building at it's foundations. The shockwave from it hits my office windows like a freight train at full speed, shattering them inward with enough force that some pieces wind up piercing through the hard wood of my ridiculously overpriced desk. Pepper told me that it would just be a waste of money, because knowing me it would probably wind up being blasted into a million splinters... but I told her that having a desk that was more expensive than most people's homes gave a great first impression. Which is true... so I guess we were both right. I rub what feels like dirt from my eyelids, and take a quick look around. Everything that isn't my $200,000 desk seems in tact for the most part, but I think I still might use this as an excuse to remodel things in here. I really hate what that woman did. Especially the fixtures.
"God damn." Urich says, stepping away from me, and dusting himself off. At some point during all of that, I must have pulled him behind me for some unknown reason. I guess it was on instinct or something, because I don't remember doing it, and now that I'm starting to notice the pieces of glass stuck in my back and arm, I'm really regretting it. It isn't so much the wounds themselves, because I know those will be gone within the hour... it's just... to lose my desk, AND one of my most expensive suits all within seconds? This just isn't turning out to be a good day.
"Are you all right?" I ask him, pulling small shards of glass from my arm with a shudder. When Urich doesn't respond to me, I glance up at him to make sure he hasn't died on me because of some unknown ailment. Maybe a piece of glass in his head that he didn't feel before? Or a sudden desire to do the world a favour? Instead I discover him staring wide eyed out the window, and as my gaze gradually follows his, I find myself watching something that seems utterly impossible. "Jesus Christ."
People... hundreds of them... falling to their deaths. Not from any plane, or building in sight... but from what seems like the sky itself.
Without a second thought the suit begins to mold itself around me beneath my clothes, half of which I've already managed to yank off as the under armour completes itself around my body. There's no way I'll get to the people that are already falling, but if they keep appearing I can maybe save some of them. If not, I can at least pull the ones that are hanging from the sides of buildings to safety. I open the bottom drawer on my desk, and pull out the remaining outer armour. Most of it automatically attaches itself to me, but certain pieces I prefer to adjust, and put on myself, including the gloves. After having my fingers broken at least a dozen times, I learned that it was easier, and actually faster to just put the damn things on myself. I slide on each gauntlet, and squeeze my fingers tightly to activate them. The light hum of the repulsors switching on causes Urich to take a step back, his reporter side finally kicking back in.
"And where did you say you got that armour again?"
"I didn't." I reply, placing the helmet on my head, and switching on the expanded visor. "I can trust you to let yourself out, right?"
He nods, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck.
"Yeah, of course."
I smirk, stepping up to the edge of the window.
"Keep in mind there are cameras in here."
With that, I lift myself up and out of the building, and wait until I'm at least ten to fifteen feet away before activating the boosts. The last thing I need is Urich suing me over something in my office being blown into him when I took off. It isn't that I can't afford it, but I'm so tired of bad publicity. It's a real confidence killer... even if it is a ragsheet like the Daily Bugle.
Somewhere beneath me people are screaming, most likely a few of the poor souls that have come across what was left of the bodies that had come spilling out of thin air. It's likely someone was injured by... debris, so to speak, but I can't focus on that right now. From this point of view I can see that there are a few lucky people who managed to grab onto something on the way down, but some of them already look like their struggling to keep their grip. Especially that overweight one clinging to the highrise apartment building across the street. Guess I know which one I'm saving first.
"Hold on." I say to him as I fly over, tucking my arm beneath his, and lifting him up in the direction of the rooftops. From here, it's faster to drop this guy off up above, and come back down than it would be to go all the way to street level, then fly back up. Right now, even a few seconds make the difference between another life rescued, and another life ended.
I set him down as gently as someone possibly can when they're in a hurry, his dazed, and wild eyes lifting just high enough for him to be staring at my knees.
"What... what happened?"
"Just stay here. I'll let someone know where you are." Is the only response I give him. I have nothing else that I can say. Out of all the things I've seen over the years, I can honestly say I've never come in contact with something like this. It's glaringly obvious that the bright flash, and the concussive force that followed was connected to these people, but outside of possibly some kind of mass teleportation device, I wouldn't know where to begin on breaking down the science of it. Especially if it was some kind of portal, or inter-dimensional tear. I might have to contact Reed later on... see what he thinks about all of this.
Taking to the skies again, I tilt down and to the left, scooping up three other people that had somehow managed to attach themselves to a flagpole that I'm all too familiar with. I've been asking these guys to replace this damn thing for months now. Ever since that really bad thunder storm back in June. Honestly, it looks like it was put through a shredder, but the building's owners completely ignore my requests that they do something about it. I've even offered to buy them a new one myself. Hell, I'm half tempted to take it with me right now... that would force them to replace it. Then at least their poor attempt at patriotism wouldn't be coupled with something that looked like it should be mounted on the back of a pickup truck from Texas. Doesn't anyone take any pride in representing their country anymore?
With one person on my back, one wrapped around my left side, and another clutching to my right, I take us up to the rooftop as softly as possible. There aren't many places to dig your fingers into on my suit, after all, so it's really easy to slip off during flight. It's something I intentionally did while designing it, but my mindset was more focused on any possible enemies trying to hang on for the ride. Maybe when all of this is over, I'll add some kind of retractable handles.
"Hang on, guys."
I've only just managed to set them down before a blood curdling scream erupts from several stories below. I'd seen the woman hanging on the building's seam when I was on my way up here to drop off these two, but I didn't think I'd be able to carry four people without one of them pushing the other one off, or maybe losing their hold. Now I'm thinking I should've taken the risk, because even as I dive over the side, and activate the boosts at full power, she's so close to the ground that I don't think I'm going to be able to make it to her in time. I reach my arm out towards one of her flailing feet, and stretch my shoulder as far as it will let me. What's worse, her kicking is making it near impossible to actually get a hold on her. Every single time I think I've got it, she throws her leg wildly to the other side.
"Come on..."
By the time I actually manage to get my hand around her ankle, we're only feet from the ground. I don't have enough time to stop the impact, but I might be able to shield her from most of it if I pull her on top of me, and take the brunt of it with my back. Pulling her into me, I spin around, and try to focus on bracing myself for the hit, instead of the shrieking that's happening directly in my face. She pushes her palms into my helmet in a blind panic, clearly not comprehending what I'm trying to do. Instead of trying to explain it to her, I place my hand onto the back of her head, and force it down against my chest.
"Stop struggling!"
The pavement spiderwebs beneath us, the weight of my suit, and the velocity of the thrusters drilling us into the soil almost twelve feet beneath it's surface. Pain explodes from my back, but I force myself to move despite it. The woman in my arms has stopped moving, which could mean she simply fainted when we landed... or that she was severely injured. Regardless of which it is, her life is considerably more important than something as minor as mind numbing pain. Especially since I'll heal from whatever damage was done to me. She might not.
I crawl gingerly from the hole we created, the unconscious woman still tucked against my chest. A police officer who had seen us falling reaches his hand down to me, and with a barely helpful tug, I'm back up on my feet.
"You all right, Iron Man?"
Nodding, I reposition my passenger so that she's cradled in both of my arms,
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Do you think you can get this woman to a hospital?"
The cop frowns, and shakes his head.
"I don't think that's gonna be possible. We haven't been able to get our emergency crews in here on account of all the accidents blocking the fricken streets. When a bunch of people just start raining from the clouds, it sort of causes a little problem for the morning commuters, ya know?"
I take a minute to look at the carnage all around us after he's done talking, and I immediately wish that I hadn't. Broken, and twisted bodies lay strewn about in several places, though some of them don't look like the ones that had come from above. Others had been struck by cars that clearly lost control when the first of the victims hit the ground. On top of that, it seems as if the shockwave that knocked out the windows in my office also struck here. Though it's possible it wasn't the same one, the end result was the same. Total chaos. Shattered glass layers the street, some of it is coated in a crimson red substance that could only be the blood of people that were unfortunately too close to these windows when they blew. I don't actually see anyone that it might belong to, which is a good thing when I think about it. Even with the streets completely blocked off, it seems at least some of the injured have been tended to.
Looks like the only way this woman is getting to Lincoln is if I take her there myself.
"There's three people on top of the One Penn Plaza, and another on the Time Warner North Tower."
Making sure I'm supporting her head as I take off, I turn us in the direction of the Bronx, and hope to God that the Lincoln Medical Center still has enough room to treat one more.
--------------------
"I never claimed what I did was right, Bats! Just fun!" - The Joker, Batman: Fading Smile |
|
| Artificial Idiot |
| Posted: Oct 1 2009, 01:01 PM |
|
|
Absurd Mind
Group: Head Admin.
Posts: 1352
Member No.: 75
Joined: 10-August 04
|
Apologies for this being so horrible and offensive in advance. *sigh*
IC: Clark Kent/Superman
Metropolis
9:07am
We paced leisurely down the streets of Metropolis, taking in the cool night air as the odd car swished by the pavement. The city had been oddly quiet, almost serene, since Luthor had moved into the Oval Office. Something I'll have to remember to thank him for, I thought with a sly smile creeping over my face. I wasn't exactly happy that that ego-crazed maniac was running the country, but as much as it pained me to admit it... So far he seemed to be doing a good job. Not even Bruce could dig up anything untoward about our new President, well nothing we didn't already know was old news at least. Lex had always been good at covering his tracks, but part of me did wonder if he was doing everything by the book just to get under my skin. To drive me to the point of frustration when I couldn't come up with any dirt on him, because there was none to be found. I'd like to think he wouldn't be so petty... But this was Lex. And truth be told, I was just happy he seemed to be putting his interlect to good use at last...
"Clark?" Lois gave me a soft nudge, and all thoughts of President Luthor were out of my head when I look down into her beautiful eyes.
"Mhm?"
"Nothing, you just looked like you were miles away."
"Yeah... Sorry." I apologise, rubbing the back of my neck. "Was thinking about Lex."
Her eyebrow cocked upwards in disbelief. "We're going on our first night out in weeks and you're telling me that you're stood there thinking about Lex Luthor?!"
"Force of habit, I guess." I smile, drawing her close as we crossed the road. I'd have said more, but I didn't want to spoil their night with talk of Luthor. Lois was right, it was bad enough I was even thinking about him. But he's always been such a prominent force in my life... And to think he has so much power, so much influence...
I just had to let it go and conentrate on the now. Mr. Miracle was opening a new show in Centennial Park, and because she had such a good rapport with the super hero community Perry had sent Lois to review it and maybe catch a few interviews. Scott had certaintly come a long way since he first appeared on Earth, the show had already sold out and he'd managed to lock down Zatanna as an opening act for the first night. I suspected Lois might get more out of it than I would, after seeing Scott escape from real life and death situations against all odds, some of the magic had been sucked out of his stage shows. I just hope Barda's wearing something sen...
... I paused in the middle of the road, my whole body tensing up despite itself. I was vaguely aware of a car horn in the background, accompanied by a coarse voice yelling insults at me, but I was even more aware of a dull humming in the air. Not a sound, but more a sensation, like something sending ripples throughout your entire spectrum of senses... It was strange, intense even, yet somehow... Somehow very familiar...
"Clark? You gonna stand there all day and bait the locals, or we going to get moving?" Lois joked, but her expression soon fell when I lowered my face to meet hers. "Is there something wrong?"
I was about to answer, when it happened. A blinding white light engulfing everything around us, like looking into the surface of the sun. I could feel myself being sucked towards it, any attempt to fight it off thawted by the very suddeness of it and the fact the pull was so strong even my attempts to fight it seemed futile. Instead I pulled Lois tight to my chest and closed my eyes as we floated upwards. For a moment it felt like I was weightless, floating in the centre of a great tube of light. I squinted my eyes enough to look around me, seeing literally dozens of people around me, with Lois and the car driver who was cursing me for being in his way moments before not far away, having been somehow pulled from the inside of his vehicle.
My mind quickly raced with possibilities. Had we all been transported into some parallel dimension? Maybe some kind of grand magical event was taking place, or this was some grand alien teleporter for an incoming invasion. Aand yet I couldn't help but feel I'd seen, and experianced, this somewhere before... I just couldn't think where! Nor was I given much more time to think about it, as with an Earth shattering BOOM, we were expelled outwards from wherever we had been, and I found myself sprawled facedown on the tarmac, the streets ringing with the sound of dozens of car alarms going off in unison, mixed with the startled and terrified screams of civilians around me.
Practically the soundtrack of my life.
"Jesus..." Lois exhaled, her voice barely a whisper, as my eyes adjusted to not having my retinas constantly burned out. "... What just happened?!"
"I..."
"Oh my God..." She scrabbled from underneath me and climbed to her feet, staring upwards. I followed her gaze with my own, and when I saw the scene around her, I really wished I hadn't. the street looked like they'd been hit by the shockwaves of an explosion, shattered glass spread as far as the eye could see and people, so many people screaming from cuts both minor and major. Yet there was something else. Things seemed... Different. The architecture, the layout of the street, the people... Too many people for this time of night. It felt more like New York than Metropolis, but that couldn't be possible... As not even New York looked quite like this. Then I looked further up, into the sky, and saw what Lois was really staring up at in horrified awe. People... So many of them, just falling from nowhere, out of the sky... In places that I could've sworn there were supposed to be buildings.
"Lois, I..." She silenced me with a quick kiss on the lips.
"Go. People need you."
It took less than half a second for me to get into the air and into costume, the chaos around me allowing for a less subtle change than usual. Even if it hadn't, there were too many lives on the line - And even the tiniest fraction of a second could mean the difference between life and death for some of these people. A risk I wasn't prepared to take. I flew as fast as I dared, slow enough so I wouldn't seriously injure any of the people I was saving, but there was still the possibility that there'd be a few dislocated shoulders here or there. I caught them two at a time when I could, settling them back down. Darting, weaving, using my freeze breath to try and slow the ones I knew I wouldn't reach in time, just trying to keep up - Trying to save them all in the seconds it would take for them to fall. Yet even after the immediate area was cleared, a quick scan of other parts of the city... A city which was most certainly not Metropolis... Showed that there were more still clinging onto dear life, and plenty more who nobody had reached in time. There were other costumed heroes on the scene now, most of which I didn't recognise, but they still looked like they could use some help.
I was about to swoop over to help them, when something I heard from down below on the street sent a chill down my spine. I heard Lois' voice ring through the background noise of panicked civilians and sirens as she screamed 'Look out!', I heard the sound of car tires screeching to an abrupt halt and when I looked down... No... Oh God, no!
"LOIS!"
I speed down from the sky as fast as I can, hoping against hope that I can stop the scenes that seem to be unfolding before my eyes in some kind of agonising slow motion. I see her, the woman I love more than life itself, dive into the road, pushing a confused looking teenaged girl out from the path of an oncoming car. I see the driver's face contort in sheer panic as he slams down hard on the brakes and tries to swerve to miss her. But it's too late. The car impacted with her side, her legs crumpling up under... No... No! This couldn't be happening. I slam into the road just in front of them, pushing the car back away from her with one hand before falling to my knees, resting her head in my hands.
"Lois..." I whisper, cradling her in my lap as her eyes flutter and her breath becomes ragged. "Please be alright... Please, say something!"
"She... Alright...?" She coughed out the words in a way that made me wince, I looked over at the teenage girl that my wife... My wife had threw herself into danger for. She was staring at us both wide eyed, her whole body quivering.
"Not a scratch."
"Good... Urgh..." Her eyes fell shut and her head lolled back, I could still hear her heart beating in her chest, but she was losing so much blood... It couldn't end like this. I'd saved so many people, so many complete strangers... I couldn't lose her after that.. I just...
"Please! I... I have a woman who needs medical assistance over here, now!" I yell out desperately into the crowd, two police offciers pushing through the throng of people just standing around.
"Sentry!" One of them called out as he approached. "That you?!"
"Whu... What?" I replied, my head felt numb... Like it was full of sponge. And I just didn't understand what they were saying regardless. Sentry? I've never met a Sentry before...
"Ah, sorry 'bout that. It's the S that did it... And you capes change costume so often..."
"This woman needs help, she was involved in a traffic accident..."
"The medics are on there way..." He reassured me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "If you could just step back we'll do her best for her until they get here..."
Hearing all I needed to hear, I took off my cape and tied it tightly around her injuries to stem the bloodflow. There were so many people here... So many injured... They'd never get to her in time. Instead I held her firmly in my arms as I lifted us both into the sky. I just hoped I could find the nearest hospital in time, and hoped and prayed that they wouldn't be too overrun to treat her.
--------------------
I think heroes would be more fun if everyone had a floating box over their head saying 'GOOD' or 'EVIL' in big shiny letters and it made a 'DING!' sound when it switched. - virtualoctopus |
|
| Peter Parker |
| Posted: Oct 1 2009, 05:41 PM |
|
|
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man
Group: Member
Posts: 121
Member No.: 89
Joined: 31-August 04
|
IC: Peter Parker/Spider-Man
Midtown High School, New York
Monday, September 28, 2009 - 9:09am
I drag chalk in a line down the items I've written on the pitted and scratched old blackboard. Same blackboard, same pocks as when I was a student, only now there are considerably more of them. Hell, I remember when Flash Thompson made the big pockmark by my index finger with a thrown pen when the teacher was turned away, then pointed at me when the requisite accusatorial glance went in his general direction, trying to plant the blame on me. Didn't work though....One of the precious few benefits of being the class nerd is that nobody expects you to do anything bad....Ol' Flash drew detention for it, and he made sure I paid for it with a bloody nose. Sometimes it still seems strange that now we can both laugh about that sort of thing.
My right side hurts like hell from last night's little dustup with Electro, two cracked ribs a reminder of a lesson in combat physics that sent me flying into a parked car. MJ gave me a royal chewing out for it, which, coming from a much put-upon pregnant woman, I took contritely.
Besides which, she had a point. We have a baby on the way now and I just can't keep going the same way anymore. Too much is riding on my coming safely home at night now. Frankly, that's something I've been trying to avoid dwelling on, but I don't see how much longer I can keep putting this off. It's bad enough to involve a consenting adult. MJ went into this with her eyes wide open....But do I have the right to keep doing this if it could endanger an innocent child?
I give myself a mental shake, drawing out of my moment's woolgathering. "Kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, and species," I point to each chalked word in turn. "It helps to remember it like this," I point to the words again, circling the first letter of each word. "Kids Put Cotton On Fat Girl's Shoes. You should write that down," I suggest, largely for the benefit of the fifty or so percent of the class who aren't bothering to take notes. Guillermo Jimenez is not impressed: he's too busy admiring the dark-haired cheerleader in front of him. She, for her part, is pleasantly oblivious, too busy texting to care. The lanky blonde kid with terminal acne in front of me is nonchalantly doodling. I could go all heavy-handed and snatch the cell phone and doodle pad and issue detentions left and right, but that would destroy the tenuous, fragile rapport I've worked so hard to build here.
I suppress a sigh. I know that science class is hardly the most stimulating thing in the world, especially for a bunch of fifteen year-olds, but jeeze, at least meet me half way here, guys. At least fake it, huh? I remind myself that a lot of these kids have it far harder than I ever did when I was their age: Guillermo is in a foster home, Anna Foster is on her fourth run-in with the juvenile authories, and there's one or two here who are hovering on the razor edge of joining a gang.
"It'll make it easier to remember for tomorrow's quiz." Aha, that worked. Groans erupt from the classroom, and several jocks in the back row give me exceptionally dirty looks. I give an encouraging smile, reaching out again. It's no mean feat when you see a sea of blank faces at best and open hostility at worst, but then again, these kids are from broken homes and worse, most of 'em.
Let's try again. "I know, I know," I hold up my hands placatingly, "Nobody likes quizzes, but there are ways to survive them. You'll be in situations in the future where you'll be required to know things, do things on a moment's notice, in school or at work, often with no time to prepare in advance....Quizzes are good preparation for this, and you don't need to be a science nerd or a brainiac to succeed. Let me show you how."
A few more heads look up. The kid with the acne glances up, annoyance now mingled with something very like surprise. I can almost read his mind: A science teacher, this mega-dork wants to help me? As if! Yup. Been there, done that.
But at least I have their interest. It's a start.
"Now, how many of you folks have read this junk you're assigned and thought, 'There's no way I can read this once and get any of it?' “ Several hands go up. ” How many have tried cramming and found that, when crunch time came, you remembered just a fraction of what you stayed up all night reading?" Ninety percent of the room raises their hands. "Me too," I confide with a smile, earning several raised eyebrows. "Doesn't work, does it?"
Well, it did for me anyway, but I like studying, so I'm sort of the exception... and brother did I ever got the wedgies to prove it.
"Well," I grin," There's a good reason for that: you can't. It's impossible for the human brain to absorb too much information all at once, so it all goes into the short term memory and you forget...BUT," I give a sly look, "Suppose I were to give you a shortcut, one that works better and takes less time?" Now even Jock Row, the surly basketball players in the back of the room, look up. They look at me skeptically, but they look up.
Aha, progress.
"It's easy. You skim it the first couple times, just preview, don't try to memorize anything, just let your brain preview it, the title and subtitle, the headings in bold face in your text book. Do this a couple times... it only takes a couple minutes, then go and read again, at your normal pace. I promise you, you’ll take half the time you normally would the old way, get twice the results, and it takes half the time."
I let that sink in a moment. "And, to offer you more choices, you get to decide, majority rules, how to take the quiz: you can go it alone, or elect to do it in pairs, with any single classmate of your choice." Bodies shift in old wooden chairs from slouched resignation to alertness as hope kindles. "With the proviso that, if you go in pairs, you collaborate on a single quiz and share the same grade."
"All in favor of.....?"
I freeze as a cold pins-and-needles sensation jangles up my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck going up as sensation very like tunnel vision hits me....Noise....screams....A bare half second later, there's a loud BA-WHOOM! and the window explodes into flying glass shards and then something dark tumbles past the window. A loud crash as something heavy smashes on top of the roof of a car parked below with a loud whump and the sound of breaking glass. A loud car siren strobes with an ululating squeal.What the hell?
"Everybody get down!" I shout.
What was that? Cannon? A jumper? Instinctively, I snatch a look around at my class. They're hunkered down at their desks, glancing wildly in all directions. Glass and plaster dust litter the place and plaster dust drifts in lazy clouds from the ceiling, starting to coat several people, but thank God that they're merely scared and startled. Nobody seems to be hurt.
Before I can so much as start to form another thought, there's another loud BA-WHOOM! outside the window, a sound like-and very unlike-a loud cannon-and something else crashes and my little extra sense suddenly goes stark, raving bonkers as the sound of shattering glass echoes through the classroom and suddenly a pale, terrified human face is in the window, a woman hanging onto the ledge three stories up.
One of the girls screams. More thumps, more car alarms as more bodies tumble past the window. The buzzing at the back of my head is now a full fledged screech. All at once, the air is livid with a violent cacophony of loud crashing sounds from the streets below, horns and screams and sickening thumps. Tires screech in the near distance as cars suddenly start slamming into one another. In less than a heartbeat, a quiet Monday morning has suddenly turned into a scene from a disaster movie.
I stand bolt upright, heart leaping into my throat, muscles tensing with the old familiar adreanline rush, the fight-or-flight sensation I've experienced so many times before, when everything goes to hell in a handbasket. "Everybody listen!" I raise my voice over the ruckus. "Listen! I want you all to go to the library and wait there, understood? Move slowly and calmly to the door and go there. Don't go anywhere else, do not go outdoors. The principal will tell us all what the deal is and what to do, understand?"
The class elbows and jostles for the door. I follow just long enough to see that everyone has indeed left for the safety of the most sheltered room in the building before I turn and bolt down the hallway and the nearest exit. I bolt down the stairwell, taking the steps three at a time, when I swing into the second landing and smack into the big, blocky form of Coach Flash Thomson, almost bowled off his feet and wide eyed with disbelief and shock. We back off a pace, half-stunned, and the big guy grips my shoulders. The big glom was running upstairs to check on the students.....Flash may be a bit rough around the edges, but he takes his charges and his friends seriously. Something else we have in common.
He looks me up and down for a second, looking me over for obvious signs of injury and I do the same to him. "Pete, what the hell is going on? Was that a bomb?”
I cut him off. "I don't know! Just get everybody into the library and ride herd on 'em!"
I turn and start running. "Hey!Where you going?" he shouts at my retreating back.
I don't look back. "To find out what's going on! Just sit on the kids and make sure nobody leaves!" He starts to protest but I bolt down the stairs, making for the exit and the alley beyond.
--------------------
 |
|
| The Joker |
| Posted: Oct 7 2009, 10:36 PM |
|
|
Admin With a Grin
Group: Head Admin
Posts: 2463
Member No.: 1
Joined: 10-December 03
|
IC: Iron Man
Monday, 9:57am
The emergency room is filled wall to wall with victims of this disaster, the triage nurses frantically dodging in and out of the crowd and calling out to the patient that's next on their list of hundreds. For a brief moment I'm tempted to stop one and ask about the wait, but a voice in the back of my head screams at me about not doing anything stupid. When these places have only a third of these patients, sometimes it can take up to eight hours depending on the severity of their injury.... but if there are so many people here that every bed has been filled, and every person has life threatening injuries.... there's no way all of them will be seen before one or more of them die due to their condition. Basically, what it all boils down to is that this woman in my arms probably won't be seen any time today, and the small line of blood starting to trickle out of her mouth is only confirming what I was afraid of in the first place. She has internal injuries. If I don't get her some kind of help soon, she's going to die... and it will be my fault for not saving her when I had the chance.
"God damn it." I hiss under my breath, turning my back on the insanity that is the Lincoln Medical Center's ER, only to be greeted with more panicked faces just outside of it. They look at me as if I have the answers. As if I can resolve this mess for them... and for as much as I'd like to... I can't.
A woman with a towel pressed up against a deep gash on her forehead grabs my arm as I try to walk past her.
"Are they turning people away?"
I shake my head, and step far enough back to slide out of her grasp. Even though it would be physically impossible for her to pull this woman out of my arms, I'm still not comfortable letting anyone tug on me for that very reason.
"No. It's just going to be a long wait. You should probably try to find another hospital."
"I've already been to four." She replied, desperation apparent in her voice.
Well, there goes plan B.
"Just keep pressure on that. It will probably stop bleeding before they even have a chance to sign you in."
She doesn't look relieved, but she at least continues on towards the entrance of the building. A part of me was afraid she was going to ask me to take her somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time someone I've come in contact with tried to treat me like a superhero taxi. I realise that we're all here to help, but sometimes I resent how little people truly appreciate what the heroes of this city do for them. We're not a convenience, we're a blessing. Well, most of us are.
Again I curse, my wandering mind just prolonging my ability to find this woman a doctor. Sometimes it's hard for me to focus, even when it's important. I haven't quite figured that out yet, but it's a symptom that's been getting considerably worse lately. It's probably just due to how little sleep I've been getting. That and having to get up before noon. That's been brutal. Maybe I should have Doctor Peterson take a look at me, just to see if something's gone wrong with...
"Phone Number Directory. Doctor Robert Peterson. Dial." I say, my random thoughts not so detrimental after all. Peterson and his staff are the best doctors that this city has to offer, as made clear by the ridiculously over the top prices. However he has done a miraculous job adjusting to my... special circumstances, so I can't really complain. If anyone has available beds, and the skill to help someone in this condition, it would be him. The ten digit number to his office scrolls across my screen, and instantly connects with the accompanied sound of ringing. After the third one, the other line is picked up. I don't bother waiting for him to speak before I tell him what I need from him. "Doctor Peterson? This is Tony. I'm bringing someone to you."
He sounds a bit flustered at first, and his voice is a little higher pitched than normal.
"You're doing what now?"
"I'm bringing someone to you." I repeat, "All of the hospitals are already at capacity, which means that if I leave her here, she's probably going to die."
There's nothing but silence from the other end for a good ten to fifteen seconds, during which time my overwhelming impatience begins to get the better of me. I'm about to tell him that he'll do whatever I pay him to do when he finally responds.
"I'll get a room ready for her."
"Thank you. I'll..." My voice trails off as I see him descend from the skyline, a man dressed in red and blue, with what looks like a large S on his chest. It isn't the fact that he's flying, or even that he's wearing a slightly bland costume with a Smint for a logo that has me so interested... it's simply that I've never seen him before. Could he be new in town? Or is he just someone I've met that's in a different costume now? While I'm trying to get a closer look at his face, I can't help but notice a raven haired woman tucked up against him, and the closer they get, the more I realise how much worse off she is than the person I hold in my arms "I'll be there as soon as I can." I disconnect from my phone call, and make my way over to the spot that his trajectory suggests he'll land in. Whether I know him or not, I can't let him take this woman into the ER just to watch her die. Not when I can do something about it.
"I wouldn't waste your time going in there." I say as he touches down, "They have their hands full already."
For a moment it seems as though he doesn't realise that I'm speaking to him, his gaze locked ahead, and his mouth slightly ajar. It isn't until I lean a little further in the direction of his eyes that he actually turns to look at me. When he opens his mouth, the words that come out seem hollow... almost haunted.
"She needs a doctor."
Nodding, I lift up off of the ground a foot or two,
"That's where I'm headed right now. You're welcome to follow me."
A little more aware of what we're talking about now, he too rises from the ground.
"Lead the way."
Peterson's office isn't too far from here, and on a normal day I could get to it in under a minute from pretty much anywhere in the city. But since I'm not really in the mood to tear the flesh from the person I'm carrying, I think I'll take it a little slower today. Plus, I'm not even sure how fast my new friend back there could even go... for all I know, I'd leave him struggling to keep up. Maybe that's something I can ask him when the circumstances aren't so dire. Regardless, at this rate it'll take at least a few minutes to get there. More than enough time to call ahead of time and let him know that I'm bringing company. Truth be told, I can't imagine the good doctor's going to be too happy with the quantity of patients doubling, but frankly I don't care.
"Phone Number Directory. Doctor Robert Peterson. Dial." I say yet again, checking behind me to make sure blue boy is still back there. He is.
This time Peterson answers on the second ring, his voice no more chipper than it had been the first time.
"What is it now, Stark?"
That's encouraging.
"I'm going to need two rooms."
"Two?" He snaps, "Why?"
"Because I'm responsible for over half of your yearly income, and if you want to keep it that way, you'll help the people I bring to you." I reply flatly, disconnecting the call before he has the chance to reply to me. I'm in no mood to deal with something like that today. He might not want to get his hands dirty on the poor people of this city, but as long as I'm footing the bill, he'll see to whoever the hell I tell him to.
I try to keep my eyes forward on the way, the destruction and chaos below us almost too much to handle. When the entire city appears to need saving, where are you supposed to start? You would think with the most severely injured, but sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between a fatal wound, and someone that just needs stitches. We've all read the stories about superheroes being blamed for one or more deaths because they didn't show up in time, or they seemingly chose the wrong person to save. Assuming the stories weren't about us in the first place. Ultimately, it all boils down to what I hate most about this self appointed job. People expect too much. Not just from us, but from the world. When they don't know how to figure things out, they expect others to do it for them. It's infuriating. Especially when all you want to do is help them.
It doesn't take quite as long as I thought it would to arrive at our destination, a woman who introduces herself as Debbie already standing there with the doors propped open by the time we land.
"They're ready for you inside."
Doctor Peterson, and his associates Doctor Williams, and Doctor Rodriguez are standing at the ready as we enter the lobby. Each one shares a look with each other, one of those silent ones that usually means that they're thinking something bad that they really don't want to say out loud. At least not in front of anyone who isn't in on their inside gesture. Peterson clears his throat, and slides on a pair of latex gloves that had been clutched between his fingers.
"Doctor Williams will be seeing to that one. I'll be taking a look at yours, Tony."
"Where do you want them?" I ask, the irritation from our previous conversation still colouring my tone of voice.
He points to the first two rooms down the hall,
"1 and 2. I don't care which one is in which."
Debbie, who has to be new because I would've remembered her if she'd been here before... slides past us, and opens each door. I give her an appreciative nod, and head into the room with the large 2 carved into it's door. The bed in the back of the room is covered in freshly washed white linen sheets, the comforter for which having been neatly folded, and placed in a chair just beside it. I set the woman down very carefully, taking extra special care to support her head all the way up to the point where it touches the pillow beneath her. She's quite a bit more pale than she was when I started on my way to Lincoln, but that could potentially be from flying around without some kind of jacket, or cover. Sighing, I pull the helmet from my head, and rub my temples with my thumb and index finger. The suit is cold against my skin, the sensation actually sending an even sharper pain through my head than was already throbbing there. All this running around has been distracting me from the fact that that street impact did more damage than I'd originally thought. My entire body felt like it had been mowed down by a freight train, to say nothing of the obvious damage that had been done to my suit. The helmet itself actually has a pretty sizable dent in the back of it. It appears things are getting worse, after all...
"Tony?" Peterson sticks his head into the room, not his usual confident self. "Can I talk to you?"
"Fine." I say, not even bothering to turn and face him.
The doctor fidgets in place, his gloved hands playing with what looks like a surgical mask.
"I understand what you're trying to do here, but this isn't an emergency room. I don't have the appropriate staff to treat more than one or two people at a time. Especially not if they're in critical condition."
Frowning, I brush my hair away from my lightly perspiring forehead, and let out a sigh.
"So what am I supposed to do? Dump them off at the hospital and cross my fingers?"
He rolls his eyes, and shakes his head.
"No, that's not what I said. I just need to know that you're not going to continue to bring people in here."
"I can't promise anything, doc." I say, trying to push the dent out of my helmet with my hands.
"This facility isn't equipped to handle that many patients, Tony. The more you bring in, the more likely these people are going to die before anyone on my staff can get to them." He says sharply.
Accepting that I'm not going to get better results out of fixing this manually, I replace the helmet onto my head, and finally give my full attention to Doctor Peterson.
"Then I guess it doesn't matter where I bring them, does it? At least here they stand a chance."
His face turns red, and his breath catches in his throat. I can tell he really wants to tell me off, but the fact that I wasn't bluffing when I said that I bring in over 50% of his yearly revenue... well, that keeps him under my thumb. Like the rest of the businessmen in this city.
"What about you?"
"What about me?" I ask, bitterness swelling up within me. Somehow I had convinced myself that this wouldn't come up.
He purses his lips tightly together, and points his finger at me,
"Don't act like nothing's wrong. You look like shit, and we both know why."
"Thanks, Rob. That was the pick me up I needed today." I reply snidely, pushing past him back out into the hallway.
Keeping right on my heels, and ignoring my very obvious hint that this conversation is over, the doctor manages to get himself in front of me before I can make it all the way to the front entrance.
"Don't do that, Tony. Don't just brush this off like you do everything else. Denying that something is wrong with you won't make your problem go away. It'll just kill you faster."
"You're only worried because your business can't afford to lose me." I snap, instantly regretting saying it as his expression shifts from anger to shock. "Look, just do this for me, okay? I'll pay you whatever you want."
Without another word I step outside, not really wanting to discuss this with him anymore. I realise that he has genuine concern about the deterioration of my cybernetic connections, but he has far more important things to be worrying about right now. Namely the well being of the two individuals that were just brought into his building.
When the door opened behind me, I thought for sure it was going to be him... but instead I find myself staring directly into the face of the superhuman I'd brought here.
"I wanted to thank you."
I wave him off,
"Hey, don't worry about it. I was just glad I could help."
"And you did." He says, reaching out his hand to shake mine. "I'm Kal-El. More publicly known as Superman."
Smiling, I give him my hand in return.
"Tony Stark... more publicly known as Tony Stark... but also sometimes Iron Man."
Superman allows a hint of a smile to creep onto his face, but it quickly disappears. His eyes unfocus, and his jaw goes slack.
"I need to go. Will Lois be safe here?"
Lois... must be the name of the woman. I nod at him,
"Oh yeah. You won't find a better doctor on the east coast."
"Great. Thanks again." And with that he was gone. But it wasn't as if he had vanished... more like he had taken off in a blurred gust of insanely quick moving wind. So much for wondering if he could keep up with me. Hell, I don't even think I could keep up with him. The only thing I'm sure of at this point is that in no way had I never met this man before. But I'd have more time to think about that later. Right now I think I should head over to the Baxter Building and talk to Reed. See what theories he has about what's been happening here, or what could have possibly caused those strange lights in the sky.
On the way over I actually allow myself to scan the ground as I fly overhead, the view just as disturbing as I originally thought it would be. There are literally thousands of people down there screaming for help, and looking up at me like I can solve all of their problems. Fortunately for me, many of them by this point are just frightened, or barely bruised. They aren't really in need of anything except for maybe a hug, or a few words of comfort, and since that's not really my area of expertise, I'm off the hook as far as that's concerned. When I cross Broadway, however, I see a pair of arms frantically waving in the air. A man in coveralls and a red baseball cap flails desperately to get my attention, his distant shout barely audible over the sound of the city. Descending close enough to hear him, I come to a stop just a few feet above the sidewalk.
"Do you need help?"
He shakes his head, breathless, and barely able to respond.
"N...no. Not me... the girl... cab..."
He points, his meaning suddenly very clear. There, about a hundred feet away from us sits a sixteen wheeler on it's side. More unsettling is the crumpled taxicab that lay pinned between the truck's front end, and a bagel shop. It was unlikely anyone would live through a crash like that, but that pedestrian seemed convinced there was someone in there that needed help. I should at least check it out. It isn't as though Reed won't be there in an hour or so.
"Stay here."
I land as carefully as possible onto the side of the car, peering in to find two passengers inside. One is the driver... or was the driver. His lifeless eyes remain fixed in this direction, wide, and full of the fear that comes before knowing you're about to die. I've felt that way several times before, it's just for some reason I keep getting lucky enough not to. The person in the back, however... seems to have started moving when I landed.
"Are you all right?" I ask, trying to open the back driver's side door with no luck. Looks like I'm going to have to do this the hard way. The metal shudders, and folds in on itself as I push my fingers through the edges. The door itself groans loudly in protest when I yank it upwards, pieces of it crumbling off and scattering about as I throw it away from us. "Miss?"
She barely moves, her eyes opening only slightly. "Peter?" She whimpers, removing her seatbelt as she tries to free herself. Her body seizes, and her eyes clamp shut. A groan of pain escapes her as her hand shoots to her abdomen. "No ... my baby ..."
My jaw clenches, and my heart sinks a little. I was already of the mind that this day was one of the worst this city has seen in a while, but there's something about the possibility of a child dying that makes it that much worse. I lean forward, and take one step down into the vehicle. If she's suffered internal injuries, it's not a good idea to make her move that much. As carefully as possible, I slide an arm underneath the upper half of her back, and lift gently.
"Come on. I'm going to take you to someone that can help."
She wraps her arms around my neck, and rolls her head forward to rest on my armour as tears begin to stream down her cheeks. "Where are we going? I have to call Peter ... my baby ..."
"Not far." I say, using the lowest setting on my boots to lift us both from within the mangled car. The flight alone should be enough to keep her awake until I can get her to Doctor Peterson. Just in case it isn't, though, I begin to ask her questions. "So what's your name?"
"Mary-Jane ... MJ." She gasps, her face contorted in both panic and agony.
"It's nice to meet you, MJ. My name is Tony." Tilting ever so slightly to the right, I head for Madison Avenue. "So... is Peter your husband?"
She nods once, squeezing tighter around my neck as we turn.
"He's a teacher."
"A teacher, huh? What does he teach?" I ask, holding her tightly as I dare to pick up the pace.
"High school science. Saving the world one student at a time." She replies, her eyes suddenly going distant, and her face twisting up in pain. She groans lightly, pressing her shaking body further up against me as I begin to descend. "Oh God ..."
"Hey, stay with me, okay? We're almost there." The front doors aren't open like they were the last time, so instead of struggling to do that while I have my arms full, I opt to use the roof access. I just hope Peterson doesn't get too angry at me for breaking in his door frame. "Your husband. What's his number? I'll make sure he knows where you are."
She shakes her head, and laughs despite herself.
"You won't be able to get a hold of him. Don't bother."
My right foot touches down first, followed quickly by my left. The flight controls seem a bit sluggish, but it might have something to do with falling several stories into the pavement, coupled with the partial control loss I've been having with my interface. Namely, having to verbally communicate with my suit now, rather than being able to use all of the thought controlled functions.
"What's his last name? I can try and find him."
"Parker. Peter Parker," She grips my arm as we land, cringing a bit at the sudden stop. "Don't worry him if you find him. He's already got too much to worry about."
I laugh lightly, pushing against the stairwell doorway with my shoulder until I hear it crack open.
"I think that's his job, though. But it just means he cares."
"You have no idea," She buries her head in my shoulder, and closes her eyes tightly. "If the baby's ... it will kill him."
"Don't worry about that. Dr. Peterson is the best in the city. He'll take good care of you, okay?" I hover about six inches from the ground, not wanting to jostle her around by actually stepping down the stairs. "The only bad thing is... he doesn't have any of those suckers that they're supposed to give you when you leave. It's a real downer."
She laughs lightly, clinging to me a little tighter than one would need do considering we're only going about two miles per hour.
"I'll try to cope, but I don't know if I can afford the best in the city."
"Don't you worry about that. This one's on me." After clearing the last set of stairs, I finally am able to switch off my thrusters, and reroute the auxiliary power through the mainframe. That should help the suit repair itself a little faster. "You just have to promise to be nice to him, because he's my doctor too, and I really don't want to have to find a new one."
"You make it sound like I'm a mean person," She says, managing to smile up at me for a moment, before resting her head against my chest again. "Besides. Why would I be mean to the man who's going to save my baby." She adds, her pretend optimism discouraging.
"I don't know." I reply, giving Peterson a nod as his head rises from his computer desk. "Maybe because he smells like an old folks home."
"Is that supposed to be funny?" He asks, getting up onto his feet, and pulling out a clean sheet for the bed in the closest room.
Even though he can't see it, I smile, and lower MJ down with as much care as you would give to a newborn baby. Not that I have much experience in that department.
"MJ, this is Doctor Peterson. He's going to take good care of you. Aren't you doc?"
He nods, sliding latex gloves over his fingers, and pulling a tray of medical supplies over by a stool next to her.
"Yes yes, of course. But this has to be the last one, Stark. I mean it."
Unlatching the front of my helmet, I slide it off of my head, and twist my neck far enough for it to crack. That should solve at least part of the reason my head is pounding.
"Why don't we argue about that after you take a look at her? I pulled her out of a wreck over on Broadway just a few minutes ago. She's been conscious the entire time, but she thinks something might be wrong with the baby."
"Baby?" He asks, immediately rising to his feet again. It seemed like for a moment he'd forgotten what exactly his train of thought was, because he hesitated in the midst of several different machines in the back before he finally found the one he was looking for. A sonographic scanner. "I'm going to need an ultrasound if I'm to determine the condition of your child."
That's my cue.
"I'm going to go and try to reach your husband, MJ. If you ever need anything from me, I'm listed... all over the place."
She swallows nervously and nods.
"Thank you. So much."
I try to give her a reassuring smile, stepping backwards out of the room until our line of sight is cut off. She really needs her husband right now, and the longer I stick around down here, the longer it'll take for him to get here. I go back the way we came from, taking the steps. Once I reach the rooftop, I shove the helmet back onto my head, and try to ignore the added pressure that puts on my temples.
"Check all local highschools for a science teacher by the name of Peter Parker."
The information scrolls over my screen too rapidly to read, eventually stopping on 'Midtown High School'. This next bit of information is something that would technically be considered illegal, but since no one has discovered my ability to hack into practically any harddrive, it's something I've been getting away with for quite some time now.
"Access faculty addresses. Pull up the home address of faculty member Parker, Peter. Cross reference any listed or unlisted landlines, or cell phones attached to that address." 212-697-2800 is the number it pulls up.
"Dial." I say, the line ringing five times before it is actually answered. For a second there, I thought maybe I'd have to leave an awkward message.
This Peter guy has to be in a moving car or something, because practically all I can hear is the roar of wind in the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Mister Parker?" I ask, making sure I'm speaking clearly so that he can hear me over whatever the hell he's doing. "My name is Tony Stark. I'm calling on behalf of your wife."
--------------------
"I never claimed what I did was right, Bats! Just fun!" - The Joker, Batman: Fading Smile |
|
| Ignite |
| Posted: Oct 7 2009, 10:55 PM |
|
|
Aren't You Sorry You Woke Me Up So Early?
Group: Moderators
Posts: 251
Member No.: 12
Joined: 14-December 03
|
IC: Mary-Jane
11:03 AM
Didn't today start out normal? Go to voice over audition. Tank audition. Lunch with Aunt May. Grocery shopping. Dinner with Peter that he was probably going to miss. Off to bed early.
Nowhere on that list is there anything about explosions rocking the city. Or people falling from the sky. Or getting hit by a semi. Or ...
Or ...
Dr. Peterson is standing at the foot of the bed staring down at his shoes. He doesn't know what to say. That's probably not a good sign. I'm a little bit drugged up, but I can tell that much. The pain in my abdomen is dying down to a dull throb. A concussion and internal damage. He's been putting off telling me the ultimate results, but I figure that's an answer in itself.
"Mrs. Parker, I, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he lets his voice trail off for a moment before clearing his throat. "The baby ... didn't make it. This early in the pregnancy, there's nothing anyone could have done."
I can see his mouth moving so I know he's still talking, but all I hear is my pulse pounding in my ears. I look down at my hands, now white-knuckled around the thin hospital blanket. Dr. Peterson's hand on my arm makes my head shoot up. When did he move around to the side of the bed?
"Mrs. Parker? Did you hear what I said?" I nod shakily. He gives me sad look and continues. "There is good news. There's no permanent damage. You'll be able to have children again."
"I need to call my husband," I say in a voice that's barely even a whisper.
"Of course." He moves to the table next to the bed and hands the phone to me. I release the blanket long enough to dial the house.
After two rings Aunt May's voice picks up. "Parker residence." She sounds so tired. It's amazing how much strain she can put into those two words.
"Aunt May?" I say, somehow managing to keep my voice level.
"Mary-Jane. Oh my God. Where are you?" I'm not sure if it's relief in her voice or just more fear.
"I'm in a clinic on Madison Avenue. I was ... in an accident," I say. Dr. Peterson steps out the door, probably wanting to give me privacy. "Is Peter there?" I know he's not.
'No, no. He's not answering his cell. I was getting so worried. I couldn't get a hold of you, either." I nod, forgetting that she can't see me.
"I'm sure Peter's fine, Aunt May. I just left my cell in the taxi," I'll have to get a new one soon.
"What happened, Mary-Jane?" She gasps suddenly. "The baby? Is the baby alright?"
"I'm fine. Please don't worry." I bite back a sob. "The doctor wants to keep me for a little while longer, I think."
"What about the baby?" she demands.
"Aunt May," I say in what I hope is a calming tone. I can't say it out loud. Not yet. "If you hear from Peter please tell him where I am." I need him.
"Of course. Do you want me to come there?" She asks. I can hear her keys jingling.
"No. No. It's safer for you to stay there. Please. I couldn't handle it if something happened to you, too."
She's silent for a moment. Aunt May is smart. I don't even have to say it for her to know. I'm sure she does. But I'm also sure she'll let me say it in my own time. "Alright," she says finally in a quiet voice. "Please, just call if you need anything."
I take a deep breath. "I love you, Aunt May."
"I love you, too, sweetie." I hang up before she can say anything else.
I stare at the phone for a moment before dialing another number.
"You've reached Peter Parker. I can't answer my phone right now." I hang up quickly, leaning my head back against the pillows. I know he's busy. He's saving the world.
Peter's a good husband. He needs me. He's always up in the air, even with his feet on the floor. He needs me to keep him grounded. I know that. But sometimes ...
I'm being selfish.
I set the phone on the table beside the bed and roll over onto my side, pulling the blanket up around my shoulders.
Maybe if I close my eyes it'll all go away. And Peter won't be off God knows where in the city. And people won't be falling from the skies. And ...
And my baby won't be dead.
This post has been edited by Ignite on Oct 8 2009, 12:53 PM |
|
| Artificial Idiot |
| Posted: Oct 8 2009, 03:49 PM |
|
|
Absurd Mind
Group: Head Admin.
Posts: 1352
Member No.: 75
Joined: 10-August 04
|
IC: Superman
10:12am
It's impossible for me to describe how much it hurts to be leaving Lois behind. It was no exaggeration whatsoever when I say I've been to hell and back for that woman - And if it'd bring her back into my arms safe and sound I'd do it all again in less than a heartbeat. Considering all I'd done for her in the past... All the times I'd been there for her when she needed me... The fact that all I could do this time was stand back and leave her fate in the hands of other people was tearing me apart inside. I just had to hope Mr. Stark was telling the truth when he claimed they were the best doctors on the East Coast, and that they'd pull her through... I couldn't imagine life without her.
Yet, as much as I wanted to still be by her side, I knew that Lois would never forgive me if I abandoned our friends just to stand around playing night nurse. Jimmy's watch signal had been going off for a good fifteen minutes already, I just hoped that meant he was still alive and... Well, the alternatives were too grim for me to even consider.
As I neared the source of the sound emanating from Jimmy's watch, I noticed a large gathering of people in the street. Already a temporary shelter had been set up, simply a large tent hastily erected on the sidewalk, with various other people in costumes who I didn't recognise helping the authorities to managed the crowds. I frowned, I knew Metropolis was traditionally my city to protect... But where were the other heroes? I can't be the only one caught up in this mess... Can I? John Henry and Natasha should be here somewhere at least...
"Hey, look up in the sky!"
The shout from below shakes me back to the hear and now, and I noticed that people have indeed done just that - Began looking up to the sky. Some with their mouths agape, others with eyes glazed over with hope and the odd few... Mainly the ones in the costumes... With muted disinterest.
"Superman!"
"What happened?! One minute I was walking along the street..."
"... Where were you? Where's the Justice League? Who are these people..."
"... Jeez, look at 'em..."
"...Think the guy in the Y-fronts was the second comin' or something..."
"Please! Help us!"
I lower myself down into the street, touching down in a small clearing that they'd made for me. It's there I see a mop of unruly red hair pushing its way through the crowd towards me. He loses his footing for just a moment, colliding with a large, bald black man in a tight yellow vest.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, fool..."
"Sorry, so sorry..." He raggedly pants out as he finally barrages through the last of the people directly in front of me. "Superman! Thought... Thought you weren't coming for a minute there..."
"Jimmy." I feel a smile creeping up on my lips despite everything. It's just so good to see him alive. "I'd have been here sooner, but..." I almost completely lose my voice, the next words barely coming out in anything but a hushed tone. "... I had more important things to do."
"It's alright big guy... If wherever you ended up was as bad as this, well..." He shook his head, glancing down at the floor. "The Planet was alright. We were on one of those Doomsday Drill things... Most of the people were already out of the building. But others..." He glanced around mournfully, if what happened here was really as bad as the situation Lois and I found ourselves in... It didn't bare thinking about. "... Not so much."
I nodded slowly, at least taking some solace in the fact that the staff of the Planet, my friends, were safe. The Doomsday Drill was just a rather tasteless nickname the guys in the office had given our fire and evacuation drills. I suppose it seemed apt... Considering the Planet was more prone to being attacked by an alien death ray or giant robot than actually having a regular, run of the mill fire. It still left a bad taste in my mouth, for obvious reasons.
"Superman... I hate to put this on your head an' all..." Jimmy began, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "But... Well, what do we do?"
I look around at the dozens of faces surrounding me, feeling more clasutraphobic than ever as they stare at me, hope, desperation and so much sadness mixed into their eyes. They were all looking at me for an answer, they were all looking at me to say some magic word or fly off at super speed and find the solution to save them. But I didn't know anything, and how could I save them when I couldn't even save my own wife? I cast my head down solemnly, unable to look at them.
"I... I don't..." I began, when I felt a hand clasp down firmly on my shoulder.
"These people need you son..." The grizzled tones of a familiar voice whispered in my ear. "... They look up to you. Don't let them down."
"Thanks Perry..." I whispered, briefly resting my hand on his before turning to face them. Despite everything that had happened, despite there seemingly not even being a Metropolis anymore, these were still it's people and I was still there guardian. All I could do was push my own problems aside... And at least inspire hope even if I couldn't help. "I'll be honest with you - I don't have any answers. I don't know how we got here, or where 'here' is. All I can ask is that you just stay calm and coperate with the authorities as best you can - And I'll do my best to get to the bottom of this and return you all home."
There was a lot of excited muttering and mumbling, but at last the crowd around me seemed to disperse slightly, back to where the emergancy services and costumed heroes were directing them too.
"Jimmy, I need you to come with me... Something... Something happened..." The words seemed to fade before they made it out of my mouth. I couldn't even begin to describe the situation to him, not yet. It was all just still so hard to believe, so hard to accept. "I'll explain on the way. Mr. White, can I trust you to hold the fort here?"
"I'll do my best Superman, they are mostly my people after all." He laughed.
"Good, I'll try to come back as soon as possible with hel..."
"Excuse me! Excuse me, sir!" A black haired woman with dark skin pushed her way through the throng, much more confidently and sure-footed then Jimmy did it had to be said, with a camera man trailing behind her. "Trish Tilby, WNBC News. That was quite an inspiring speech you gave there, anything else you'd like to say to survivors of the Big Boom around the world?"
The 'Big Boom'? I had to stop myself from cringing it was so bad, but then... I also knew that it was catchy, alliterate and it'd ultimately stick. If only because the media would drum it into peoples heads twenty four hours a day. I knew that if this truly was a world wide phenomena then this was my one chance to try and reach everyone, and I took it.
"My name is Superman..." I begin looking into the camera. "... And I can assure the people of your city, of your world, that they have nothing to fear from me. I just want to get us all back safely home." I paused to take a short, shallow breath. "To those of you who know me, you already know what I stand for, and I can only reiterate what I said before. Remain calm and give the authorities of this world your full co-operation."
"And if any of your fellow heroes are watching?"
"Do what you do best - Help save lives and protect the innocent. I'll do my best to contact you soon." I held Jimmy tight to my chest and began to rise into the air. "I'm afraid I can't answer any more of your questions right now, Miss. Tilby."
"See ya later Cheif!" Jimmy called down as we took to the air, only to have a muted 'Don't call me Cheif!' yelled by Perry in return. Despite everything, some things really never did change.
With that, I was gone. I did my best to tell Jimmy what had happened on the way, but still falltered over the actual details. It was no good, part of my brain just... It couldn't come to terms with it. At least not yet. Especially with all the chaos and suffering going on in the world at large. He'd have to find out when he saw her. I settled down gently on the pavement just outside the hospital, Jimmy slipping loose of my arms and bursting through the doors in front of me. As I calmly walked in after him Dr. Peterson gave me a gravely disapproving look from behind the desk.
"That better not be another one... I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?"
"Superman." I said, more firmly than usual. "And I'm getting very tired of your contempt for human life, Doctor Peterson."
"It's not contempt, Superman..." He sighed wearily, rubbing his fingers along his temples. "It's quite the opposite in fact, I want to give the patients I have the best chance at recovering... And I can't do it if you and Stark turn my hospital into a drop-in clinic."
"I'm sorry..." I mutter under my breath. I knew I was being harsher on him than I should, but so much had happened... "He's not a patient, he's a friend of Ms. Lane's."
"Fine, fine..." The doctor grumbled. "My staff are still working on her but he's free to wait in the lobby until she's stable."
I nodded as Jimmy flopped into one of the chairs and idly flicked through a magazine before throwing it down just as quickly as he picked it up. There was a few moments of completely alien, uncomfortable silence between us, before Jimmy finally broke it.
"You never told me what happened to her Superman..." He said, quietly. "Is Ms. Lane going to be okay?"
"I... I don't know, Jimmy." I admitted, closing my eyes and taking in a few breathes. "It... It was a car accident... I just wasn't fast enough to pull her out of the way... There was just too much..."
"It's okay big guy." He replied in a reassuring tone. "God knows you've pulled us both out of enough scrapes over the years, one miss out of a thousand is good innings from where I'm sitting..."
"That one could cost her her life..." I replied solemnly.
"She'll be fine, Superman. Ms. Lane's a fighter, she always pulls through..." He glanced around the waiting room for a moment, his brow crinkling. "Say, where's Clark?"
"He's... On a special assignment..." I hesitate for a moment. In all the commotion, I'd... Well, as embarressed as I was to admit it, I'd forgot about myself. "I asked him to try and help locate the other heroes, and if possible try and determine where we are and how different it is from home..."
"Ouch, his wife is in there fighting for his life..." Jimmy says, a pained look crossing his face. "... And all he can do is help other people. Tough break."
"Like you wouldn't believe, Jimmy." I reply, the wariness creeping into my voice. Just standing here reminded me how helpless I was, how little I could do. I was needed elsewhere. "So, where you were was the location of the Daily Planet?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah, one minute we were stood around in the parking lot, the next... Well... I guess you know all about that, huh?"
"Hm." I wondered exactly how alike this universe and ours was. If the distances were roughly the same... "I have to go. I have one last place to check on before I can start trying to rally the others... Can I ask you to look after Lois while Clark is away?"
"You don't even have to ask. I owe a lot to... Well, all three of you I guess..."
"You're a good friend, Jimmy..." I smiled slightly, making my way back to the door before pausing and turning back. "Oh, and if you see a man who looks like Steel, ask him if there's anywhere I can meet him again - I figure we have a lot to talk about."
And with that, I was gone again. I'd seen to my friends, did the best I could for my wife and now that the rough location of the Planet had given me my bearings again, it was time to check on my family.
--------------------
I think heroes would be more fun if everyone had a floating box over their head saying 'GOOD' or 'EVIL' in big shiny letters and it made a 'DING!' sound when it switched. - virtualoctopus |
|
| Peter Parker |
| Posted: Oct 8 2009, 04:36 PM |
|
|
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man
Group: Member
Posts: 121
Member No.: 89
Joined: 31-August 04
|
IC: Spider-Man
New York City
9:15 AM
I'm not going to make it!I'm not going to make it!I'm not going to make it!
Well over a dozen scattered forms tumble end over end, screaming fitfully as they blur to the pavement.Two people lose their grip on ledges twenty stories up and fall, screaming in terror. Sixty yards away, on either side, nearly a dozen more more bodies tumble earthwards. A terrified woman hangs onto my back, clinging to my neck for dear life. "Hang on!" I yell, as much to her as to the others.
Already, I've left a trail of dozens of nets strung between buildings, lamp posts, and aerials for several blocks behind me, fired under as many falling bodies as I could catch, or pluck out of midair and toss over my shoulder in mid-swing, firing a safety net behind me and underneath the victim. There's just been no time to do anything more-it's all happening too fast for me to do anything more, and I hate it.
It seems that the faster I move, the more people are falling, hanging onto ledges or flagpoles for dear life...The fewer I can save. For every person I can catch, there are just too many I can't. What the hell is going on here?
The entire city is a disaster area.
I twist into a midair barrel roll and snap out my arms, releasing my line and firing a net between two sides of an alley, under the nearest group. No time to look back....I can only pray it works, even as rotate my hips, point my feet and snap my upper body to do a one eighty and try for the other groups of falling bodies.
Theyre less than a couple hundred feet from the ground now, well past terminal velocity. I might be able to get under one, maybe two, but the others......
Not another Gwen Stacy...Not this time. I fire a webline, hurtling downwards in a tight, fast swing, even as my cellphone, held against my waist by a blob of webbing, chooses this moment to go off.
"If it's someone telling me I've won the Irish Sweepstakes, they're going to have to wait," I quip breathlessly to my terrified passenger, as much a weak effort to reassure her as myself.
I pass ninety miles an hour, a building looming up before me. No way in hell I can avoid face planting at this rate. At this speed, a collision would be fatal, even for me, and I already have a passenger. Normally, I slow my speed a lot, ease my swings into a gentle pendulum when I'm carrying someone, but that's just not an option when people are materializing out of thin air and falling to the ground. I was lucky I reached her in time....I try not to think of the dozens of shattered bodies that litter the streets, people I couldn't reach in time.
I figure I have maybe five seconds, if that. My cell phone jangles at my waist, where it's held by a blob of webbing. Dammit!
I get close enough, fire a web net, my forearms pulsing, wrists stinging with all the webs I've been firing. The nets catch between the sides of buildings as I release my webline, throw my free arm across my body and fire another at ninety degrees up and to my right.
The webline goes tight, bleeding off some momentum, but not nearly enough. I dance with Newton's Laws, skirting the edges of momentum and inertia, striving to transform the forward momentum into a lateral swing at the last second.
"Ungh!" Impact slams into my feet as I hit the side of the building, my line stretching tight and my lateral swing bleeding momentum, letting me sprint madly along the side of the building. The last two groups, several in uniform-cops maybe-are eighty feet from the ground. My legs hurt like hell, but I'll live. These people won't unless I do something.
Please, God! Let me make it!
Running laterally, legs and lungs burning, I release my hold on my webline as I dive for it, arms outstretched at either side, firing two heavy nets, forearm muscles squeezing mercilessly, skin burning as I fire another line, catch the top of a streetlight and swing around it to bleed off speed.
Behind me, the last two nets have caught between a pair of banks and a couple of stalled trucks on either side of the street, the occupants bouncing and yelling, but unhurt. I finally lower myself to the ground on a trailing webline, my passenger still clinging to my neck. Thank God....
"It's okay, Miss....We're on the ground now....You can let go." I see the fingers are locked in a choke hold. "Really, you can let go." The streets are a violent cacophony of horns, car alarms, sirens and shouts and screams. The woman finally releases hold on me, staggers and I catch her shoulders. "You okay?" I ask gently. She could well be in shock and I can understand why.
Truth to tell, I'm not far away from it myself, but I've been to busy moving to think about it. Now I see bodies strewn everywhere in a sickening jumble, sirens wailing as emergency vehicles try vainly to get through the hoplessly snarled streets. My legs hurt relentlessly, right down to the bone, and I move between her and a group of still bodies, shielding her from the worst of it.
The shattered body of a smallish woman in a fancy dress outfit, some sort of tattered clown outfit, lies face down on top of a crushed taxi cab in a pool of blood. Pinkish grey brain spatter mingles with wisps of blonde hair. Soul-sick, I turn away, making sure the woman I caught doesn't see.
"It's okay," I blow out a hard breath of exhaustion, finally. "You're safe now."
The woman steadies herself and peers at me through tangled chestnut hair. "Th...thank you, I...," She breathes shakilly, then freezes, gazing at me, absolutely pop-eyed.
"Who the hell are you?"
10:57 AM
Oh my dear God, no!
My entire life hangs on a thread, my universe crumbling about my ears. the current crisis, the ache in my limbs, all of it....vanished entirely.
The words of the phone call, the surprise at hearing Tony Stark call me as peter.....Then the universe dropped out from under me and I only vaguely recall the rest. I swing, leap, flip, and run insanely, fast, faster, faster than I've ever gone, my heart thundering, my pulse pounding in my ears, the aching dread in my heart, the leaden weight in my soul heavier than it's been, arguably as bad as that horrible night Uncle Ben died.,
I'm coming! Just hang on, MJ! Please, God, do whatever you want to me, but not her..!
My soul screams denial and horror as I plunge through the air, releasing my line and diving for the rof of the clinic below.
--------------------
|
|
| The Joker |
| Posted: Oct 8 2009, 10:15 PM |
|
|
Admin With a Grin
Group: Head Admin
Posts: 2463
Member No.: 1
Joined: 10-December 03
|
IC: Lex Luthor
11:11am
I hang my head forward over my lap, and keep my eyes clamped shut. My hands are cuffed behind my back to one of the most uncomfortable chairs I've ever come in contact with, while a light that rivals the intensity of the sun shines down on me from above. The voice of the man hidden behind it barks another order at me, one more out of the dozens he's already tried in the last hour.
"Look at me."
Sneering, I leave my eyes sealed.
"Shut off the damn light, and maybe I'll oblige."
He doesn't exactly switch it off, but he does spin it away from me, angling it down towards the table.
"Think you can answer some questions for us now, Mister Luthar?"
Opening my eyes one at a time, I shake my head, and lean forward as far as the cuffs will let me.
"It's Luthor."
"What?" He asks, his voice sharp and nasty.
I smirk at him,
"Luthor. Not Luthar. But I wouldn't expect you to know the difference."
His face flashes with anger, and he starts to rise up out of his seat. Only the hand of his partner keeps him down, the gentle nudge reminding him that even potential terrorists have rights in this country. No matter how ridiculous that is.
"You think you're pretty smart, dontcha?"
Giving a mild shrug, I return to a more relaxed position.
"Is that really one of the questions you want me to answer, Agent Bradley?"
His fists ball up, and his knuckles turn white.
"Will you actually answer that one honestly?"
Sighing, I lower my head again, and answer as slowly as possible.
"Just because you choose not to believe what I'm telling you, doesn't mean I'm not being honest. It just means you're an imbecile."
Obviously having had as much as he could tolerate, Bradley pushes himself roughly from the metal table placed between us, and storms out of the room in a silent huff. His partner, a man that had introduced himself as Special Agent Johnson, lets out a tired sigh. Two very generic names for two very generic morons.
"You can understand the position we've been put in here, Mister Luthor. Between what's been happening outside, and what we both know happened in the White House... we have to consider all possibilities. Now, I know that you and your friend didn't cause all this, but you can't just show up in the oval office, put the president in the hospital, and expect to walk free, you know? All we want is whatever information you might have that might help us solve this."
"I've told you what I know." I say sourly, "There's nothing else I can offer you."
Frowning, Johnson lowers himself down into the seat of his fellow officer, and scoots in.
"Lex... can I call you Lex?"
"No."
--------------------
"I never claimed what I did was right, Bats! Just fun!" - The Joker, Batman: Fading Smile |
|
| Wade Wilson |
| Posted: Oct 9 2009, 01:18 AM |
|
|
My Common Sense is Tingling
Group: Moderators
Posts: 388
Member No.: 11
Joined: 13-December 03
|
IC: Deadpool
11:37am
So, let me see if I've got this right so far. There was a big "BA-WHOOM", and...
I'd call it more of a "BOOM". Nobody ever said "BA-WHOOM goes the dynamite", y'know?
Okay, "BOOM". So anyway, there's a big boom sound and suddently it's raining men... and women, and children, and probably cats and dogs, which is actually pretty ^&%$*@! funny. The raining cats and dogs, not the children. Then on top of all that, now there a bunch of new capes trying to help the regulars clean up the carnage. When I saw everything happening on the news, I did what anyone in my position would have done - I turned up the volume and went and grabbed Weasel's last bag of Cheezy Puffs. What? This ^%$* is always great TV!
You really are trying to fight that "superhero" stigma, aren't you?
Hey, I'll have you know that I... hold on, phone.
I'll wait.
I slowly make my way up off of the couch and grab the increasingly obnoxious phone off of the wall. This had better not be a sales call. They just started covering a huge pile-up on the interstate, and the FF is there lending a hand. Ah... Sue Richards.......... oh, sorry.
"Um... hello?"
"Wilson. I've got a job for you." The familiar voice grumbles at me.
I groan and hear ol' one-eye out.
"And what job might that be? I don't look good in janitor coveralls."
"Shut up and listen. We don't know what the hell happened this morning, or who or what in the hell may be responsible. What I do know is that damn near every superhero seems to be out there playing EMT, including a bunch of new ones that I don't know from Adam."
Jeez, I thought he had a job.
"So, what's the big problem? More help, right?"
"The big problem is this - if a bunch of new new costumed good guys showed up out of the blue, what the hell is to say that there aren't a slew of new psychos running around? And what about all the familiars? What do you imagine they're up to right about now while Iron Man and the Fantastic Four are busy taking people to hospitals?" He says with a bark.
Hmm. Not sure I follow.
"So... what do you want little ol' me to do about it?"
"I'm talking about paying you to get out there and kick the ass of anybody who looks like a god damned super criminal. Use discretion, but if any of these bozos look like someone who would try and hold a city for ransom, well..."
"Say no more, Fury. I'm in. I haven't gotten to shoot anyone in eleven days. This is just what I needed!"
"Christ..." he says before I hear the click.
Wow. Crabby guy. Oh well. It's Morphin Time!!!
That's not yours.
This post has been edited by Wade Wilson on Oct 9 2009, 03:09 AM
--------------------
 |
|
| Ignite |
| Posted: Oct 9 2009, 06:28 PM |
|
|
Aren't You Sorry You Woke Me Up So Early?
Group: Moderators
Posts: 251
Member No.: 12
Joined: 14-December 03
|
IC: Mercy Graves
11:15 AM
“What did you say your name was?” asks the tall agent in the sharp suit. He’s the ‘good cop’. He sits across from me, leaning forward on his elbows. The short, stocky one leans against the far wall, sizing me up. He has his tie loosened, his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“I didn’t,” I respond, matching his faked kindness.
“We’re just trying to have a conversation. We’d like to call you by your name.”
“Not we,” the short one points out to his partner. “I just want to bash her face in.”
“We’ve been having all sorts of disciplinary problems with this one,” Good Cop says.
“I’m sure,”
“So, why don’t you just tell me your name. We’ll count it as a sign of cooperation.” I stare at him. “OK, we’ll try a different one then,” he says, folding his hands. “What were you doing in the oval office?” I tilt my head to one side, remaining silent.
Bad Cop finally pushes off the wall. I clench my jaw. “You attacked the president. In the White House!”
“I attacked no one. If I had attacked your president he would no longer be the president.” Bad Cop shoots forward, swinging his hand down across my face, doing nothing to me, but succeeding in breaking his hand. He jerks back, holding his hand against his chest. Apparently they don’t take kindly to threats on their president. I guess that’s my cue.
I pull my arms apart, the links of the cuffs shattering. I slam my fist into Bad Cop’s face with my full force, sending him into unconsciousness, possibly killing him. I lift the steel table easily and throw it out of my way. I spin around and pin Good Cop against the opposite wall. He’s whimpering.
“Stop crying,” I snap, “We’re just trying to have a conversation. Now then, are you going to cooperate?” He nods vigorously. “Good. Where’s President Luthor?”
IC: Mary-Jane
11:24 AM
I sigh, watching Spider-Man flipping across the screen. The camera tries to follow him but loses sight of him quickly. A large web is spread across the street catching a few people. I know Peter is trying to do as much as he can. But he’s probably beating himself up because he can’t save everyone.
“Mrs. Parker?” Dr. Peterson says, pushing open the door. He closes it quietly. I turn the television off as he approaches the bed.
Bags are starting to show under his eyes. I wonder if Iron Man brought him more patients. The doctor didn’t seem very pleased when he brought me in. But he’s been good to me. Very good to me.
“Are you still in pain?”
“A little,” I say with a small shrug.
“I’m going to give you a little bit more morphine, then.”
He fiddles with something on the IV and starts to say something else when a loud shout from the lobby startles him.
“Oh my God, where is she?” I’d recognize that voice anywhere and it makes me smile. “Yes! I’m Peter Parker. Just let me see my wife. Please!” I can hear his footsteps running down the hall and he throws open the door.
He looks like hell. He probably stopped on the roof and threw on his clothes. I can see a flash of red under his shirt and the edge of his mask sticking out of his pocket. His knuckles and fingers are bloody. He’s sweaty and grimy, his hair sticking to his forehead.
“Mary-Jane, my God,” Peter whispers his eyes wide and face pale. He rushes to my side and kisses me hard, then jumps back, as if he suddenly decided I was fragile. He takes one of my hands in both of his and presses his forehead into my hand, still panting.
The doctor has a small smile on his face. “I’ll give you a minute.” He pulls the door closed behind him.
“God, are you ok?” He’s kissing my hand now. He’s shaking, quivering even. Every one of his nerves is on edge. “Baby are you … is the … I don’t like to even think about what I’d do if I lost you.” He leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. His breathing is finally starting to slow.
“I’m OK, Tiger. Probably better than you, right now.” I give him a sad smile and touch his cheek.
I know he doesn’t miss the sadness in my face. I’m not very good at hiding it. (Maybe this is why I keep screwing up my auditions …) He stares into my eyes and presses my hands to his cheek. “Don’t worry about me, love, I’m okay … but Tony called me and I got here as fast I could … God. I’m so sorry. If I’d been there with you …”
I stop him. “Peter, you were working. You couldn’t have done anything. You were probably still at school when it happened.” What about the kids? Oh God.
He nods. “None of the kids were hurt, thank God. We got them to the gym and Flash is riding herd on them. … You should have seen him.” His smile is wistful and mine matches him. We’re both well aware of Flash’s problems. “You’d have been proud of him.
His brow furrows and he draws in a deep breath. “Have you called Aunt May, or should I …”
“I already called her. I’m sure she’s sitting by the phone waiting for an update.”
“Then she’s home safe?”
I nod. “Yes. She’s fine. Don’t worry.” Please don’t worry anymore, I add silently.
He lets out a breath slowly. “Thank God for that, anyway … The streets are a disaster … not even the National Guard can get through … there are people falling everywhere, from nowhere,” he lets his voice trail off.
He stares at me for a long moment. He always does that. He thinks he has to spare me everything he’s seen. I reach forward and rub a bit of grime from his cheek. He catches my hand and kisses my palm.
“Soooo … how did the audition go?” He’s just trying to make small talk now. He knows something’s wrong, but he’s trying not to ask. I wonder if he knows how much that means right now?
At the mention of my audition though, I squeeze my eyes shut. “God, that may very well be the worst part of the day.”
He squeezes my hands folding his over mine. “Tell me,” he says in a gentle voice.
“Botched it. It was flat out embarrassing. That’s how bad it was.” I sigh. Maybe if I focus on that I can distract him, and me, from what’s really happening.
“MJ, you’re a professional actor,” he says with that gentle smile. We’ve had this conversation a hundred times before. “The actor doesn't exist who ever likes their own work.....Remember Olivier? He threw up before each performance, and he hated everything he ever did."
“I know, I know,” I say with a small smile. “I am my own worst critic.”
"So was Kate Hepburn, so you're in good company. Remember that old story of Aunt May's, how Kate's first play was utterly razzed?" He kisses my hands again.
"So it couldn't have been that bad. But if it was, what went wrong? If we examine it, we can practice, and you can prevent it from happening next time."
I know he enjoys helping me with my lines. He just helps hanging upside down from the ceiling and in stupid voices. He hasn’t been around much lately to help me, though. I understand that, I’m just still being selfish.
“I just … froze. I mean, I used to freeze all the time, when I was first starting out. But not in a while. I had the lines in front of me an it was just gone out of my head.” I sigh. “I hate cold readings.”
He smoothes my hair back from my forehead. “Everybody has bad auditions, sometimes, you know that. And it’s not like you don’t have other things on your mind. We'll take this as a learning experience, and Ill help you whenever you need me to. If you want to update your demo tapes, my friend in the music department can give you some studio time, free of charge.”
He’s been so good lately in what little spare time he has. He set up a website, ran off demo tapes, and even kept my IMDb page is up to date.
Finally he takes a deep breath. “MJ … is everything okay?”
I close my eyes for a long moment before forcing a smile. “Please, Peter, don’t worry.”
“I can’t help it,” he says in a voice that nearly breaks my heart. “It’s what I do.”
I close my eyes and remember how happy Peter was when I told him. He immediately told everyone at the school. Flash showed up that night with enough take-out for triplets and was almost bouncing as he told me his favorite names. Flash. Hunter. Sterling. Flash. Charlie. Flash. He even pointed out that Flash might even work for a girl. At least as a nickname.
“MJ …” he says, looking at me, probably trying to find answers in my eyes. “Okay,” he whispers, leaning forward and wrapping me in a careful hug, like he’s still trying not to break me. “You’re my whole life,” he whispers in my ear.
I kiss his temple lightly. “It’ll be okay.” I say, not able to force the negative thoughts from my head. “We’ll be okay.”
He nods, not looking happy, but apparently accepting my answer. “We’ll be okay,” he repeats.
I look at his hand over mine. He’s been digging in rubble, I realize. That’s the blood on his fingers. I slowly pull my hand back. “Peter, you should really go clean up.”
He stands and looks down at himself for a second before giving me a half hearted smile. “That bad, huh?”
“You do kinda smell,” I say with a light laugh.
His eyes widen. “Smell?” he repeats.
“Kinda like the boy’s locker room. And, I mean, the room was sterile before you got here.” I wink at him. I can make this right. I can.
He bends and kisses my forehead again. “Okay, I’ll go call Aunt May and get cleaned up … but I won’t be far. You rest.” He tucks the blanket around me a little bit too tight. “I’ll be right here.” He hurries from the room.
I stare at the door for a moment after he’s left before curling onto my side and hiding my face in my hands. For the first time today I just stop and let myself cry. How am I supposed to tell him this? How am I supposed to handle this. |
|
| Artificial Idiot |
| Posted: Oct 10 2009, 03:05 PM |
|
|
Absurd Mind
Group: Head Admin.
Posts: 1352
Member No.: 75
Joined: 10-August 04
|
Mr. Miracle
10:27am
I closed my eyes and breathed deep, calming breathes as the van we were in gently rocked back and forth. I had an inkling that the supension must have been shot, but unfortunately was in no position to point this fact out to the man driving it. I just took solace in the fact that the road we were on was generally rather smooth and well maintained, I'd been in far less comfortable pairs of handcuffs then the ones that currently bound my hands behind my back and that the other occupants of the confined space we'd been forced into were so much quieter and less rowdy than when we'd been picked up. Of course, the same couldn't be said for my own little family... But I'd all but given up the right to peace and quiet the day I got married...
"... Look, all I'm sayin' is, I was hungry and I thought in the all the commotion..."
"That it would be okay for you to steal?!"
"Whoa, whoa... Let's not be quite so heavy on the S-word here..."
... And I really wouldn't have it any other way. Despite everything that had happened, despite the absolute chaos we'd been thrown straight into the middle of, I couldn't help but let a warm smile cross my face while listening to Barda and Oberon bickering. It reminded me of home. That no matter what strange new world, time or dimension I'd been transported too... At least everything I loved and cared for had been transported with me.
"Oh, so you were only 'borrowing' that apple to give it back when you were finished with it?"
I could practically hear the venom dripping from Barda's voice. I knew she wasn't truly angry with Oberon, as much as he irritated her at times she knew how much he meant to me - He was almost like a father. No, she was just frustrated at the situation we were in. Pulled from the open air stadium in Centennial Park, thrown into the middle of some kind of major freeway...If Zatanna hadn't of been there to divert the cars away from the innocent bystanders who had also been dragged away with a few quick words then I dread to think what would've happened. I imagined the walk into the city and Oberon's light fingers couldn't have been helping her mood, but I knew the real problem... Like me she knew exactly what had pulled us here, but wasn't ready to admit it. Because if we were right...
... Well, the situation could be so much worse than anyone could imagine.
"Hey, I left my wallet in my other pants and just assumed one of you guys had some spare change in those tights of yours..."
Barda let out a strangled noise from the back of her throat, before she spat out the following in muted tones. "No better than a common looter..."
"Geez Louise... Scott, help me out here..." I slowly opened my eyes to see Oberon staring out at me in silent appeal and slowly shake my head.
"I'm sorry, but you're on your own with this one, my friend..."
"Well that's just typical, I tell ya. All the things I've done for you, all the times I've helped you out of a jam and you always side with the pretty face... Guess camaraderie means nothin' these days..." Oberon sank back further into the seat, continuing to mutter quietly to himself. "... What kind of cockamany shop owner pulls a gun on you over an apple anyway..."
"Hey babe..." One of our fellow passengers finally spoke up, a man in a dirty denim jacket with an even dirtier mullet (and I thought my fashion sense was bad...) who'd been leering at my wife since we were hauled in. If he was planning to act on that then I almost pitied him. "If the circus freak doesn't want to shut the dwarf's mouth then I'd be hap--URK!"
Barda's foot was across the space between them and at the man's throat before even I had time to register it. I couldn't help to admire her as she braced her back against the wall, propping herself up firm with one foot on he bench while the other was pressed against the man's throat... Of course, the tiny costume she wore with me on stage didn't hurt either. I soon snapped out of it when I realised she just may be choking him to death...
"Killing our fellow prisoners won't solve anything, honey..."
A snarl crossed her face before she pullled her leg back, sitting bolt upright in her seat. "No.. This one's not worthy of a death at my hands..."
"Well, technically..." Oberon began, but I shook my head. Now really wasn't the time.
"We shouldn't have to be prisoners, Scott..."
"I know..." I whispered. "... But for the time being it's in our best interest to comply with the wishes of the authorties. For all we know this world could be radically different from ours, and I have no desire to enter it as a fugiti..." My words, and the wind, were knocked out of me as I was threw violently against the side of the van. So much for the smooth, well maintained road. In fact, if I didn't know better... "They're taking us off road."
"Off road?" Oberon reitterated, raising a quizical eyebrow. "What, they got some secret mountain retreat as police HQ or somethin'..."
"Definatly something..." My body tensed as the van pulled to a stop. I could hear muted talking outside and a few moments later the back doors were pushed open, revealing the fully uniformed police officer behind them and... No. That fool! Held tight in one of his hands and being slapped carelessly into the other, as if it were just some common Earth truncheon, was Barda's Mega-Rod.
"Alright you lowlife scumbags, listen up..." He growled. "... The police station is overrun with people like you, so we've decided to take matters into our own hands and... Lighten the load a little. Figure with all the new people popping up nobody's going to miss a few."
"Sir, that instrument you're holding..." I tried my best to reach out to him democratically, but he cut through my words with a gutteral laugh.
"What? This thing? We just assumed it was some kind of crazy sex toy."
"INSOLENT WORM!" Barda roared as she shot up from her seat, the handcuffs shattering into several different pieces as she broke free of them.
"Barda, NO!"
The man may not have realised what he was doing as he swung the rod towards Barda, but the Mega-Rod itself did. It was enthused with all the hatred and anger of the firepits of Apokolips, constantly whispering Darkseid's vile messages of hopelessness, despair and utter devotion to him into the weilder's ears. Barda was strong enough to withstand it, but a mortal mind... The last time this had happened... Well... It had ended up with one man dead because I couldn't act in time. I was not going to let anyone die today!
I leapt forward out of my seat, the handcuffs that I'd worked my way out of almost as soon as the van doors had closed on us clattering to the floor. I pounce on the man, forcing the Mega-Rod up towards in his hands as it unleashed an almighty blast of cosmic energy, ripping away a large section of the van's roof. Without wasting a second I planted my fist firmly in his jaw, putting him down for good.
"You were free the whole time?" Barda asked, stepping down from the doorway of the van and pacing towards the unconcious officer, taking her Mega-Rod from out of his hand.
"Handcuffs have never sat well on me." I shot back, with a slight smirk. "Well, at least not for long..."
"And what happened to co-operating with the police of this world?" The smirk was wiped off my face almost as soon as it got there, my jaw slackening slightly.
"Ah... Well... I um..."
"Mack? You out there?" Both our heads snapped towards the passenger door of the van, another officer of a slightly smaller build, climbing out from within. "Sounded like a freaking bomb wen... Sweet Jesus!"
He went for his gun, but Barda was quicker - Dispatching him with a blast of energy that knocked him clean from his feet.
"Still afraid of being a fugative on a strange world?" She asked, head cocked to one side and hand rested firmly on her hip.
"As it happens... Not so much." I reply, casting a glance at the group of prisoners in the back staring at us dumbfounded. "Besides, we have more pressing issues to deal with. That portal that teleported everyone here..."
"A Boom Tube." She affirmed, putting it out there so bluntly. I nodded.
"Several of them. It means that somewhere on this world, somebody is using New Genesis technology to bring... Well, you saw snippets of the news, who knows how many people they've brought through to this place?"
She shifted her weight from one side to the other, her brow furrowing. "What are you planning to do?"
"I need to find the source... Determine what kind of threat we're dealing with..."
"Then the two of us will go at once!" She said, taking one of my hands in her own.
"No, honey... I need you to stay here, if I... Well, if something happens you have to find one of the other heroes, tell them what happened."
"Oberon can stay behind and inform the others, it could be dangerous and you'll..."
"We've been in this world for less than an hour and already our lives have been placed in danger. Oberon needs you more than I do, and if something happens to all three of us... Who else on Earth would realise what's happened before it's too late?" I cup her chin in my hand, lowering her eyes to look into mine. "Whatever the odds, whatever the risks... I'll always come back to you."
"You'd better." She says, with grudging acceptance. It seems that I've truly earned my name, as it usually takes a miracle for Barda to back down from a situation like this, and in all fairness she's usually right not too.
She held me in an embrace more gentle than I imagine most people imagine she's capable of. I couldn't help but sigh, ever since we'd came to Earth all she'd wanted was something that was virtually impossible on Apokolips, a quiet life, and I'd always done my best to give it to her. But between my own thrill seeking, her own firey temprement and... Well, things like this it just never seemed possible...
"Ahem!" I tilted my head towards the van to see Oberon on his feet, still with his hands cuffed behind his back. "You two love birds gonna give me a hand, or just stand there smooching all day?"
I turned back to Barda with a warm smile. As much as I liked and respected the man, it was his fault that we were in this mess...
"I'm afraid you'll have to ask my wife really nicely." I turned to the other's who had been huddled in there with us. "As for the rest of you, you're free to go. I suggest you make your way to the nearest city and turn yourself in."
It wasn't the ideal course of action, but we simply didn't have time to take them there ourselves... Nor did we really know where the police station was. At least the handcuffs might motivate them not to wander off into the wild.
"Wait, Scott... You're kidding right?!"
"Sorry old friend, consider it a penance." I laughed, as the Aero-Discs formed under my feet, lifting me off the ground. Lingering only long enough to see Barda tuck a protesting Oberon under her arm, before swooping off towards the nearest city with her own discs. I rose high into the sky. No doubt the people of this world have had more than their fill of boom tubes for one day.
"Motherbox, I need you to locate and take me too any technology associated with the New Gods that might exist on this planet..."
There was a sharp 'Ping Ping Ping' in my ear, before a Boom Tube opens up in front of me. Looks like I was in for far more death-defying escapes than even I'd anticpated today...
--------------------
I think heroes would be more fun if everyone had a floating box over their head saying 'GOOD' or 'EVIL' in big shiny letters and it made a 'DING!' sound when it switched. - virtualoctopus |
|
| The Joker |
| Posted: Oct 28 2009, 08:17 AM |
|
|
Admin With a Grin
Group: Head Admin
Posts: 2463
Member No.: 1
Joined: 10-December 03
|
IC: Tony Stark/Iron Man
Monday, 12:01pm
"I knew you'd be here." I say, setting my helmet down on one of the many tables in Reed Richards vast laboratory. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
It takes Reed at least thirty seconds to turn towards me, his typical serious expression now weighed down by exhausted frustration. That doesn't stir hope in me.
"Tony. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in."
I smirk at him, and find myself a good place to lean. Normally I don't indulge in the urge to do that, if only because it makes you look unprofessional, or disrespectful. At the very least... tacky... but I'm making an exception today. Mostly because my back is just killing me.
"I hope that means you're working hard to figure out the cause of all of this."
He nods, shifting his attention back up to the large monitor sat in front of him.
"Yes. Unfortunately the results aren't quite what I'd hoped."
Frowning, I push myself up from the edge of the table, and make my way behind him. The numbers on the screen seem like a jumbled mess of nonsense, rows of equations that ultimately come to only half of a solution. Not that I know what that math means, but being able to solve it makes me feel a little better about myself.
"What do you know so far?"
"As of right now, the only thing I can say for certain is that these inter dimensional anomalies occurred on a global scale." He replies, stretching his arm half way across the room to grab the clipboard off of his desk. That always freaks me out a little every time he does that.
I raise an eyebrow, and fold my arms over my chest,
"Inter dimensional anomalies? You mean portals?"
He flips through the first four pages on the clipboard, then glances back at me,
"Correct. A dimensional bridge, that according to the 1.09 seconds of data that my spacial scanners managed to collect before these gateways acutely severed their connections, seems to be powered by some... mysterious and unknown X-element, which serves as a matter threshold that links two universes together. It's not unlike the-"
"Let me stop you there." I say, lifting a hand up to stop his rambling. "Basically what you're saying is that these people came from another world?"
Shaking his head, he hands me the top sheet of paper from his stack, and points at the chart like I'm supposed to understand the graph he's drawn up.
"No. Not another world. These portals, if you will, served as a temporary doorway to an alternate reality."
I stare down at the paper for another few seconds, hoping that maybe now that I know what he's saying, it will make sense. It doesn't. Shoving it back into his hands, I return my arms to their crossed position.
"Okay, you lost me again." I see Reed readying up to explain it to me all over again, so once more I lift my hands up in pleading gesture of silence, and stop him from continuing. "And that's okay. Really. As long as YOU understand it, that's fine. So... any idea why it happened?"
"No." He said flatly, his brow crinkling in irritation. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you that it wasn't by any means natural, but the actual cause of this is still unknown to me."
"Do you think you could figure out a way to get them back to where they belong?" I ask, resuming my leaning position against his table with a wince.
He nods, eying me strangely.
"Yes. I'm quite sure that I could given enough time. At least the ones that survived. This is all assuming I'd be able to narrow down the.... are you feeling all right?"
"Me? Oh yeah. I'm just fine." I lie, replacing the helmet onto my head, and shutting the faceplate firmly. Looks like it might be time for me to head out anyway. "If I set up a press conference, do you think you'd be able to explain all of this in english?"
Reed's brow furrows in confused aggravation,
"What language do you think I've been using, Tony?"
I smile even though he can't see it, and take a few steps backwards,
"Right. So I'll do the talking then. Just have all the pertinent information ready for me within the next couple of hours, okay?"
He doesn't look overly enthused, but he agrees to it just the same.
"All right."
"Thanks, Reed." I say, rising up off the floor, and turning toward the exit. "I knew I could count on you."
And with that, I make my way outside of the Baxter building, and tilt ever so slightly in the direction of the now visible Stark Tower. If Pepper's going to set up a press conference for me, she'll need a little more notice than an hour. The last time I did that to her, she refused to talk to me about anything personal for nearly two weeks. I would've thought that'd be a break from the constant picking about all the dangerous things I do with my time, but truthfully I kind of missed having someone that cared enough to even bother with nagging... and since she and I are on such thin ice right now anyway, I really don't think I should be pushing anything.
Women are so complicated.
--------------------
"I never claimed what I did was right, Bats! Just fun!" - The Joker, Batman: Fading Smile |
|
| Peter Parker |
| Posted: Nov 14 2009, 10:24 PM |
|
|
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man
Group: Member
Posts: 121
Member No.: 89
Joined: 31-August 04
|
IC: Wally West/The Flash
12:01 PM
My name is Wally West and I am........totally boned.
I sprint cross country, eastbound and trying my very best to "maintain an even strain", as GL likes to say ... and having kinda mixed results, if you really wanna know thre truth.
It's not every day your entire frikkin' city vanishes right off the map.
Okay, so where was I? Oh yeah: one minute, I'm ready to run to work, trying to formulate yet another why-I'm-late-this-time excuse (Hey, I had to stop a carjacking), just taking a second so the driver could shake hands with the the Fastest Man Alive (and who can blame him?), the next ka-BOOM!
And I mean that literally. I'm sucked, head over heels, along with at least a dozen other people into...something excedingly wierd.
And when I say"wierd", I mean "wierd" even by my standards (and take my word for it, that's going some).
What the...?
Okay, don't panic, don't panic, don't panic....
But here's the real kicker: One second I'm in the middle of the street in good ol' Keystone, horns and traffic sounds and people making the serenade of city life, the next, I'm sitting on my colorfully-clad butt, literally in the middle of nowhere...and people are falling all around me from hundreds of feet up.
....
Okay, now it's time to panic....
I just knew if I waited for them to fall and tried catching all of them one at a time, I'd never be able to catch all of them, so I did the best I could.
I have to admit, I took about a full second to completely panic (for me, that's a long time), before I popped into superspeed and ran for it. And I do mean I ran, in tornado style, round and round the as many of falling bodies as I could, hundreds, maybe thousands of them, falling from where the tallest buildings in the financial district used to be.
Oh, man, this is bad. I ran in circles, a wide swath the equivalent of several city blocks, I don't know how exactly big, just that it was as big as I could make it, creating an updraft-a big one. This trick always works with a couple people, but this was the first time I ever tried with literally hundreds, maybe thousands. All I know is that I didn''t have time, and I was desperate.
The falling bodies, screaming and praying and crying all the way down, were swallowed in a one-man tornado the size of, well, as much of Keystone as I could circle without killing or trampling someone to death. Too big a funnel means too much wind, which means people could get badly hurt....maybe die if it resulted in a vacuum. The dust and tornado noise and the mess thrown up as I passed pretty much drowned everybody out. I just focussed on running, running.
The falling bodies gradually slowed maybe a dozen feet from the ground, and I managed to sneak a look. Okay, good....I slowed down, hoping to God nobody had collided in midair. After a few thousand more circuits, I finally slowed and ground to a halt, and looked around.
This is the really rotten part about being the Fastest Man Alive: there are sometimes when being fast just isn't enough. There, sure enough, was a large cluster of very windblown Keystonians, alive and reaosnably well, thankGod (a few were hysterical-and I can't say I blame them)...And strewn here and there were bodies....Bodies splattered across the pairie, drowned in pools of blood. People I wasn't fast enough to catch.
I felt sick. I didn't save them...I wasn't fast enough....
Voices overrode one another, a babel of sound.
"What the hell...""
"Where is the city...?"
"I was just..."
"Oh, my God, my br.....!"
"Flash, what the hell happened?"
"Easy, folks, take it easy!" I have to shout over the noise. Everybody gathered around me, expecting me to know. After all, I'm a superhero, right? That's what I'm supposed to do, right? Have all the answers.
"I don't know!" I say loudly enough for everybody to hear. "Just hang on and stay here!"
We were in a prairie , for God's sakes! A prairie! What the hell were those...things? Did the city go kablooey? Noooo, take my word for it, my idea of heaven is not a prairie...I'm thinking more along the lines of Linda and..and...well.....erm....
Uh, never mind.....
I try my comlink. Boy, if there was ever a job for Superman, I'm not too proud to admit that this is definitely it. "Watchtower?" Nothing, just static. "Watchtower? "
I try again. "Metro Tower?" More static. I sighed, dragging my hand down my face. Great-What else could go wrong?
I no sooner let the thought percolate through my brain than I knew what else could go wrong.
Linda...Oh, God....
Without another word, I ran for home, and I'm not too proud to admit I was honestly afraid.
Except, of course, I couldn't go straight home. There were too many other people, still alive, who needed help.
I could only hope Linda hadn't left for work yet. It took three hours, three hours that taught me what Hell must be like if I ever go there. Digging people out of wrecked cars (some of them seemingly sliced in two by those...tube-things, whatever they were) looking for frightened lost children, carrying people to the few doctors or EMTs who were still alive and able to render first aid...mostly with their bare hands or whatever they were carrying... Bodies everywhere, God knows how many, and Linda was propbably one of them.
Every nanosecond dragged out as I searched faces of former motorists, sitting, dumbfounded in what was left of their cars.
Terrified little groups of people standing where evidently their houses used to be.
Finally, at the northeastern end of the city, I find her, and I make a million promises to God of all the favors I'm going to do him to repay him. She was in the middle of a group of some of our neighbors, most of whom are in various degrees of panic. Linda seemed to be trying to calm them down. As soon as I saw her, she saw me too and ran to me and, once we werere out of sight, we hugged ecstatically.
"Wally, what the hell was that?"
I looked her up and down, fior a moment forgetting anything but how wonderful it was to see her, alive and intact, even forgetting the horror I saw in...well, town, I guess.
"You okay? The babies okay?"
Linda patted her swollen belly, still wide eyed. "Think so," she finally gets enough wind to say, her eyes wide with fear. "I was just outside when....Wally, what happened? Are we being attacked?"
I finally snapped out of it...Remember there are a lot of other people who need help. "I dunno...I tried calling the others, but nothing. Maybe we're being jammed."
We hugged again, feeling her face against mine. Finally, she broke the embrace. We both know I have places to go.
"You gonna be okay?"
"Yes...I'll do what I can here." She nods, mouth firm, that wonderful dry little half smile on her face. "Come back as soon as you can."
I look at her, hardly believing my luck...When we lost so many others. "Promise.......Love you."
She forces a mock-severe smile. We both know I have places to go. Sometimes being the fastest thing on two legs really sucks.
Maybe one of the Brain Trust will be able to suss out what happened to my city.
"Well, don't just stand there, goofball, get going!"
Sigh. I hate it when she's right.
So now, I do what I do best: I run.
Straight to Metropolis.
--------------------
|
|
| Artificial Idiot |
| Posted: Dec 8 2009, 02:03 PM |
|
|
Absurd Mind
Group: Head Admin.
Posts: 1352
Member No.: 75
Joined: 10-August 04
|
Superman
10:47
It takes me longer than I anticipated to get too... Well, for lack of a better word, Smallville. I’d abandoned my regular clothes on a street in New York, and so had to borrow some from various washing lines that I’d passed on the flight. I’d made a mental note of what houses I’d taken them from to drop them back later, hopefully I wouldn’t be here long enough to have to figure out something more permanent. I hadn’t managed to find any glasses, so a pair of sunglasses from a shop display had had to do, even though it wasn’t really that bright out.
I stumbled through the vast empty cornfields and open plains where Smallville was supposed to be, I’d scanned the area from above and knew there was some kind of camp here – Probably like the one in New York housing the Planet staff, lots of military, police and medical workers on the scene, tending the injured and doing their best to look after the refugees from another world. I stumbled out of a cornfield, climbing over a fence into it only to be approached by a man in uniform, thankfully with his gun lowered.
“Help you, stranger?” He asked, taking my hand and helping me over the fence.
“Aw, boy am I glad to see you. I was out in my pick up and...”
“Some kinda vortex dumped you in the middle of nowhere? You and most everyone else here.” He led me towards the camp. “You got a name, son?”
“Clark. Clark Kent. I’m looking for my...”
I was cut off as both out attentions were drawn to some kind of commotion going on in the camp.
“I told you to keep that goddamn mutt under control!”
I heard from the distance as a streak of white dashed across the field to meet me.
“Kyrpto!” I exclaimed, kneeling down and motioning him towards me as he bounced around our feet. I gave him a good scratch behind the ear before standing up and telling him to walk along with us. If he was here, then that must mean...
“Clark?!” I slid the sunglasses down my nose slightly to see her at the edge of the tents, waving at me.
“Ma!” I dashed over to her, Krypto at my heel, just so happy to see her alive and well. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. “You’re alright...”
“We’re both fine. Just a little shaken...” She said, taking my hand and accompanying me deeper into the tent. “We weren’t sure you’d come, weren’t sure if you were even here – This place is so empty and...”
“It’s okay Ma, I’m here.” She led me to Pa, and we eventually found a quiet corner to sit and talk in. Pa had managed to sprain his ankle, having been up a ladder at the time of the ‘Big Boom’ (I always told him to wait until I came home to help with those kinds of jobs, be he never listened) but otherwise I was just so relieved, especially after everything that had happened in New York.
“It was terrible, Clark...” Pa was explaining. “You know old Matthew Reid?”
“The grocery store owner?”
Pa nodded. “Right, well there’s word going around that he ended up in a barn – His waist teleported right inside a cow. Killed them both outright...”
“Jonathan!” Ma scolded, folding her arms across her chest. “Is there really any need to repeat such horrible stories?!”
“The boy needs to know Martha! It’s been terrible here... Just... Most of us were safe, Ma and I were safe enough, but you hear of people ending up on dirt tracks in front of oncoming trucks, stuck in the walls of barns or the struts of a watercooler... Why would anybody do such a thing?!”
“I don’t know yet...” I admitted. “But it’s been no better in Metropolis. So many people died today Pa, and there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing anybody could do.” I held my head in my hands. “I just have to try and help those that are left as best I can.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, son, it’s all you can do.” Pa held a hand on my shoulder and smiled. “How’s Lois?”
“She...” I struggled for the words, but eventually found them. “There was... An accident. She’s being treated now, but it’s still touch and go.”
“Oh, Clark.” Ma draped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “Is there anything we can do?”
“I’m just glad to see you both alive.” I smiled weakly, patting her softly on the back. “But I need to... Ah!" I reeled backwards, almost falling out of the chair I was sitting in."I’m sorry, I just felt this really sudden pain in my...”
Superman?
The voice in my head had a ghost-like, almost non-existent quality to it. I stood up and glanced around, trying to find the source but couldn’t see anybody but more refugees and workers going about their business.
“J’onn?”
I’m many miles away from your current location. He explained, helpfully. A few of us were onboard the Watchtower when the mass transportation took place, fortunately Green Lantern was able to protect us from the vacuum of space.
My eyes narrowed, whoever was doing this was thorough to say the least.
I’m glad to hear it! I thought back in response. Listen, I’ve met a man who may be able to help us here, I’m going to New York to meet up with him again – Head there and I’ll tell you more details as soon as I’m able.
Should I try to contact any of the others? He asked, I almost wanted to tell him to bring everyone – But if other parts of the country are as bad as Metropolis, those places needed their heroes until things settled down.
We’ll deal with that later, in the meantime just focus on New York.
Very well. Take care, Superman.
Take care J’onn, see you soon.
Having finished, quite literally, talking to the voices in my head I turned back to my parents.
“I have to go, back to New York to try and sort this all out. Will you be alright?”
“We’ll be fine.” Pa chipped in, with his usual chipper, gung-ho attitude. “You just focus on finding out who did this and giving him one for me and Lois.”
“I will Pa, believe me. I will.” I said, placing my fist into my other hand. “There’s a man I met in New York, he might be able to put you up somewhere in the city. If so, I’ll come back for you, and no fussing! I’d rather you were all closer to me... And closer to Lois.”
They both nodded, completely understanding, and it struck me how lucky I was to have such great parents. I gave Krypto another stroke on the head, he looked up at me expectantly but I just knelt down and said,
“You take care of them for me, okay?”
He let out a short bark before sinking back to Pa’s side, and with an appreciative ‘Good boy!’ I slipped back out of the camp as best I could and took once more to the skies.
* * *
Mister Miracle
12:45pm
BOOOM!
I feel the aero-disks fold up under my feet even as I hover out of the boom tube, with it closing behind me as I hit the ground. I'd instructed Mother Box to drop me a few feet away from the source of the New Gods power source it had picked up. On reflection, perhaps it would've been better to have had it drop me a few miles away, as looking at my surroundings... I was inside. Inside of a building, that housed an immense power that could empty an entire city at least. And I'd just gone ahead and boomed right in.
Something told me that wasn't good.
I glanced around quickly, a shadowed corner being the only cover that caught my eye. It'd have to do. Ducking into it, my cape swirling behind me, I hugged it as close as I could before switching to intangibility. Just one of the many little tricks mother box allows me to perform. It wasn’t long until the sound of heavy footsteps hammered their way towards my position, and when I saw who they belonged too... My mouth dropped.
Parademons. Bug eyed, grey skinned, yellow and green grunts of Darkseid himself. All converging around the area where I had boomed in, and chitterling and grunting amongst themselves. I should have expected this from the very start, who else would have that kind of technology and want to cause so much chaos. But why? How could ridding the Earth of humans help him in any of his long term goals...? Did he consider Superman that much of a threat? And if so why not simply isolate him and the other heroes? It made no sense... I’d have to investigate.
I waited for the Parademons to scatter, before letting the aero-disks form under my feet again and hovering down the darkened corridors of this place like a ghost. Occasionally I had to cling to some darkened alcove, or even the ceiling itself, as a patrol of Parademons marched by, luckily their not noted for being the sharpest knives in the drawer and I was able to sneak through their ranks undetected. Eventually Mother Box brought me to an airtight door, sealed shut with an electronic lock with two Parademons stationed either side. I hovered over their heads, before dropping down and placing a hand on each of their necks.
“Sorry folks...” I let out a small electric shock from my gloves, enough of a jolt to stun them both. “I guess that’s just the way the Parademon tumbles!”
I sighed, I was starting to sound more and more like Oberon by the day.
The two guards slumped to the floor, and after a quick glance over my shoulder I got to work on the lock. Breaking off the casing, I started to reconnect the wires until the door slid back, revealing a staircase that seemed to have no end. I took to it before anybody came along and noticed my tampering, all the while feeling the pressure in my heart building and racing. For the first time since I got here, I was totally exposed, and if anybody should decide to come up – There was nothing I could do but try to fight them off before they could warn anybody else.
Thankfully, that wasn’t an issue – However, when I found myself at the bottom I was presented with something much, much more worrying.
“Highfather’s Beard...” I exhaled, letting the aero-disks fold up under me and stepping into a large room with one of the most magnificent machine’s I had ever seen. It had all the stylings and symbology of something from New Genesis, but the scale of it... Its scale was magnificent, and it pulsated with a strange, bluish-white light that was near-hypnotising. I felt my jaw slacken as I walked towards it, extending my hand out in wonder and feeling the cool metal beneath my glove. It was only then that I noticed the Mother Box suspended in its heart.
“A Boom Tube amplifier...” I exhaled to myself. “... Incredible!”
Against my better judgement, I stepped up onto the machine and reached into the compartment that held the Mother Box. If I could just take it away with me, it would stop Darkseid from doing this to other worlds and perhaps even reverse the progra --
“AARGH!!!”
I was thrown backwards onto the floor as an excruciating pain ran through my arm and straight to every nerve in my body. I must’ve set off some kind of alarm, as the boots hammering against the stairs sounded like a monsoon in my head. I was in too much pain to make any move to escape, and soon found myself surrounded by feet – Mostly of Parademons, but also of another group of people.
“Looks like we’ve got an intruder...” Said one of them, I tried to look up into his face but couldn’t muster the strength. “I don’t know how you got in here, but I’m sure the master can put you to good use... Just like the others...”
I lifted my torso up on my arms, only to be kicked back down – Soon slipping completely into unconsciousness.
--------------------
I think heroes would be more fun if everyone had a floating box over their head saying 'GOOD' or 'EVIL' in big shiny letters and it made a 'DING!' sound when it switched. - virtualoctopus |
|
| Peter Parker |
| Posted: Dec 8 2009, 05:49 PM |
|
|
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man
Group: Member
Posts: 121
Member No.: 89
Joined: 31-August 04
|
IC: Frank Castle/The Punisher
New York
10:47
The whole world has turned into a complete disaster area.
God damned capes. I wish they'd take their little spats into the sun or somewhere, just go the hell away.
I suppose I almost wish-with a part of me that I often wish would just stay dead- there were something more I could do, but rescues are not my line, and there seems to be literally more help around than is needed. And I still have a job to do.
A twinge of something, almost like cold fury, a feeling part of me remembers, when I feel anything at all, judders through me and out again, leaving brittle venom in its wake.The fact that children have been involved in this......atrocity makes it all the more heinous.
The capes failed to protect. God knows how long this was going on, right under their sanctimonious noses.
The police failed to bring those responsible to justice.
I don't fail.
But one good thing to come from all of this, I muse as the sirens and horns blare far away, audible even in the suburbs, is all this noise and panic will let me do my job without distraction, and provide adequate cover to leave the scene once my objective has been fulfilled. I check my loadout one last time, settle my shoulder holster and give my flak jacket a final patdown before I button my black leather trench coat to my throat and walk casually up to the door, pausing before I ring the bell.
113A. One car, the late model Chevy Trailblazer parked outside-paid for with children's tears and blood and lost innocence. License plate is a positive match.
I've kept this place under surveilance for weeks now, expanding outward from here through my sources to track down the distributor then the agent, operating out of a sleazy lower east end office block.
I bided my time, followed the trail, tracked them down, one at a time. The brain spatter is part of the reason I chose to wear the coat over my black tactical clothes, as much as it was to conceal the tell tale skull painted on my armored vest.
I rap the door and a high pitched, quavery soprano sounds, looking through the peephole. I let her.
"Who is it?" A definite edge of nervousness in her tone. She knows. No matter.
"Mrs. Jones," I say flatly, using the couple's chosen alias. "Open the door." Another pause. She's doubtless weighing what to do. If I'm a cop, then I may have backup...If I'm a...connection, can she afford to keep me waiting? To stall or not to stall, that is the question.
I wait. Moments later, with a rattle of chains and bolts, the door opens, revealing a slender blonde woman in her thirties, obviously naked except for a thin-and unseasonable-silk kimono. Her makeup is overdone and glaringly seductive-another confirmation.
I loom over her, arms hanging loose at my sides. "Make it easier on the children," I tell her, deadly calm and cold as ice. "Invite me inside," I close the distance between us, invading her space, threatening her without making a move or uttering a further word. She shudders, backs away, and caves, backing aside.
I walk inside, just barely inside the door, gaze flitting to my sides, checking the area. No threats. Just three children, sitting side by side on the sofa: two boys, about ten or twelve, and a girl, maybe eight. They stare ahead, frozen, glassilly, frightened or drugged, but definately with the icy stillness of trauma. I've seen that look first hand far too often to mistake it for anything else.
"So then," a voice sounds around the corner, from the kitchen, a raspy baritone with a soft scots burr,"I said, 'Hey, I'm a genius. If you don't get it, then you must be stupid.' "
The blonde freezes, gazing at me with a frozen smile, flits her gaze to the speaker, a thin bald man, middle thirties, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and carrying a phone."Honey, she says in a thin voice...Someone is here to see us."
He looks up, annoyed at the interruption. "Look, I...have to call you back." He hangs up without letting the other party say a word and sets the phone down on teh counter, eyeing me warilly, gaze flicking from me to the jittery blonde to the frozen children and the door, then back to me. I let him.
"What do you..." he starts.
I don't let him finish. "I'm shutting your little child porn ring down....Your distibutor, Quinn," I interrupt coldly. "And your manager Didenzio, both confessed. Social services are on their way for the children. " I see them eyeing the exits, the doorway to the back. I amost hope they'll try for it, but these kids have been traumatized enough.
"Basement." My voice drops to a toxic whisper and my eyes narrow. "Now."
Skinny finds his voice. "Wait a sec, mate, cop or no, you got no right to barge in here without a warrant, now..."
I don't want a distraction, don't want the kids involved. I allowed myself ten minutes, maximum, allowing for the location of the closest police units and optimum traffic conditions. That's why I chose this time of day, when traffic is lightest, the neighbors would be at work and these tow would be alone in the house. More risk for me, but I want these kids extracted from this nightmare, fast.
I unzip my coat, parting the lapel just enough to show the Uzi in the shoulder holster-the skull on my vest.
I place my hand on the butt.
"Oh my God," the bald man gasps, turning pale.
I advance on him a pace. "Basement. I won't tell you again."
He eyes the woman-useless to him now-and the children. he wants to use them as hostages, bargaining chips....and he knows he can't get to them in time. He knows he's helpless. Good.
He backs to the door, I eyeball him and the woman, the exits, aware we're alone but taking nothing for granted. He could still try for my sidearm. I almost hope he does.
He backs away a pace, two, then opens the basement door. Shielding the children from the view with my turned back, I draw my sidearm and gesture with the muzzle down the narrow, dim stairs, away from-and out of sight and hearing of-the children upstairs.
First the woman, then the man descend, slowly and hesitantly. I pause just outside the door, knowing I'd be backlit in the dimly lit basement. "Lights," I order, prodding the woman in the small of the back with the barrel.
She obeys and a quick visual sweep reveals noone else, only a dim windowless concrete basement, two tiny, blacked-out glass slits near the ceiling...and a pink satin bed with a green silk backdrop, and two lights on stands...and a camera. Old furniture and junk are crowded along the walls of this makeshift....studio. The walls are lined with soundproofing material.
"Against the wall," I order flatly, eyes narrowing more, kicking the door shut behind me, reaching back to lock it, never taking my eyes off them.
"Now."
There are certain ways, various signs that people give just befor ethey're about to attack, go for a gun. I know them and the woman quavers, her body anguage as full of 'tells' as a bad gambler."Look why can't we...." and she reaches behind her, into the junk behind her producing a Tazer. Probably what they've used to keep the kids in line. Stupid.
My left hand pistons up, a silenced .45 materizlizing in my fist as if conjured there. A muffled phop! and a neat hole is suddenly between her eyes, She slumps to the ground, the Tazer clattering away to the cold cement floor, a gooey pinkish grey bloody trail wiping down the wall behind her head as she slides down the spongy white soundproofing, a dazed expression on her face, then topples over.
The man stumbles backwards, his calm assurance, that faint air of superiority melted away like snow on a hot plate. He can deal with children he can terrorize, colleagues and ocntacts he can impress, BS or threaten. I don't fit into any of those categories and without his usual repertoire, he knows he's out of his depth.
"Listen, mate, just...just..." he starts in that faint scottish burr, the voice rising an octave in panic as he stumbles away. I advance on him and he scoots back on his ass.
"Please!I'm a....!" He shrieks.
Then I jam the gun inside his mouth, put a finger to my lips and whisper, "Shhhhhhhhh," angle the barrel down and away and fire. Blood explodes, shards of flesh, fragments of teeth as his eyes go wide and a wordless shriek escapes the shredded lips.
I could stand there and watch for hours as he chokes on the shreds of his tongue and the shards of his teeth and bleeds his life away. I want him to savor every minute, every second of pain he's visited on these children, but I don't have the luxury of time. Blood flecks his lips, along with fragments of teeth and tongue, his eyes glassy and wide with pain and shock. He gurgles, one hand over his mouth, another at the back of his throat, where the slug came out.
"You're a child pornographer and a human trafficker...Now you're just an object lesson," I tell him coldly, then put a second slug between his eyes, turning away before he even hits the ground.
I go upstairs and watch over the kids, who are still sitting immobile, staring straight ahead, on the sofa. That's the worst part. Throughout, they never move, never speak, not a single tear. I leave by way of the back door when the first car pulls up. I looked at the girl, and there's a flicker of something there, a shred of humanity that may still be salvaged, though I don't doubt for a moment that these vermin have left permanent scars on her mind as they have on her body.
As for the two boys....They're older and cold numbness in their eyes tells me that, in their case, the damage has probably been done.
And for the first time, I'm afraid :Afraid that I'll be seeing one or both of those boys again in twenty years, maybe less.
--------------------
|
|
| The Joker |
| Posted: Jan 1 2010, 09:17 PM |
|
|
Admin With a Grin
Group: Head Admin
Posts: 2463
Member No.: 1
Joined: 10-December 03
|
IC: Tony Stark/Iron Man
Stark Tower
New York City, New York
Monday, September 28, 2009 - 3:58pm
I adjust my tie in the mirror, making sure it, along with my hair, is perfectly straight. You'd be surprised what little things the media will cling to when you're a multi-billionaire responsible for the deaths of thousands of people overseas. Suddenly a crooked tie means you obviously care so little about your appearance that you couldn't POSSIBLY care about all those lives they still blame you for ending after all these years. Truthfully, there's few things on this earth that I hate more than the press, and yet here I am once again using them to get my message out to the masses.
"They're ready for you, Tony." Pepper says as she steps into the room. She still refuses to make eye contact with me, the fact of which is really starting to get under my skin. All of this awkwardness on top of everything else that's happening is really the last thing I need. Though it's not exactly like I'm able to tell her to get over herself and try to focus on the bigger picture... have you ever tried that with a woman? You hear about it for years.
Sighing, I check myself over one more time, and give a single nod. It isn't going to get better than this... which fortunately for me is pretty good in the first place.
"All right."
Bulbs flash, and voices flare up as I step out into the main room. Reporters from every news station, and paper across the state crowd in as far as the stage will let them, their microphones raised high up above their heads as they shout questions in my direction. Reed gives me a half smile and a nod as I pass him, the pages of his research slipping from his hands into mine. I give them a quick once over, then step up to the podium. Immediately I decide that I won't be using anything he wrote. While a genius on many levels, Reed has never really been good with people. Especially when it comes to explaining things in a way that others can understand.
"Good afternoon." I say, clearing my throat only once, and resisting the urge to reach for my tie again before continuing. "I know that you all must have a lot of questions. Questions about what happened this morning. Questions about the millions of strangers filling every shelter across the nation. And I know that you all hoped that this press conference meant that you might be receiving some answers... but unfortunately that's not the case."
I catch Reed taking a step toward me, but I reach out my hand behind me to stop him. We don't know nearly enough to justify publicly announcing any of this. We could cause a mass panic regarding the safety of this city, or even the world itself... not to mention the possible danger it could put our new visitors in from people that blamed them, or still thought they could provide the answer. I probably should have told Reed this before asking him to compile all the data for me, since his little motion there probably gave the press all they needed to call me a liar. But that really wasn't new.
"Please." I say, trying to calm the commotion that had been stirred. "Understand we are doing everything we can to find the source of these appearances, and Dr. Richards is confident that given enough time, he'll be able to resolve this entire situation."
Urich pushes his way through the front of the crowd, and lifts his tape recorder up farther than several microphones.
"How's he planning on doing that?"
Didn't I say no questions? I blame Pepper for giving him that meeting with me earlier. Now he thinks I want to talk to him.
"With science. In the meantime..." I say loudly, cutting off another sentence that was trying to seep it's way from his mouth, "...I've personally spoken with both the President of the United States, and the Mayor of New York City. Both have agreed that we are facing a crisis of global proportions, and need to work together to help those that have been negatively impacted by this event. That's why I urge the people of this country to reach out in whatever way they can. The Red Cross has come forward to help those in need, and is currently accepting donations of any kind for this disaster."
"What about you? How much have you donated, Tony?" Urich asked.
Clenching my jaw, I take in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
"Stark Industries has already given over $100 million to their cause, and will also be opening up several apartment complexes, and businesses to those without homes."
A woman named Miranda stood up from her seat... assuming I'm remembering her name correctly, as I think she only told me once that night, and I was pretty drunk... well, she's from the New York Times. About three years ago she was interviewing me for some smear piece about repulsor technology, but by the end of her time with me, I remember what she said to be quite... glowing. She didn't seem too happy now though, which might have had something to do with me never calling her back, but come on. What did she expect? Anyway, she also seemed to have something to say that just couldn't wait, only her tone came off as much more accusing than Urich's.
"That's pretty generous of you. Why wouldn't you offer the same deal to the homeless people that actually belong here?"
I totally ignore her question, and continue into what I'd planned on saying from the beginning.
"Finally, in difficult times like these we should set aside our differences, and work together to ensure the safety of everyone. So to those of us out there, superhuman and human alike, that have a little something extra to offer to this effort, The Avengers open their doors to you."
"What about you, Dr. Richards? What do you have to say about all this?" Someone else shouted.
"No more questions for today." I utter quickly, grabbing the stack of papers off of the podium, and bailing off to the right side with Reed in tow. The roar from the reporters is almost deafening, but the ringing in my ears brought on by anger seems to do a pretty good job at drowning most of it out. I come out here to tell people about what I'm doing to help them, and they STILL crucify me. In case I ever needed a reminder as to why getting into politics was a BAD idea, this would do it.
A few straggling reporters try to follow us as we make our way to the elevator behind the central water fall, but thankfully my security actually does what I pay them for, and keeps them back. Reed steps up beside me as I dig for my keys, eying me carefully as I practically break the right one while shoving it into the lock.
"You mind telling me what that was about?"
I press the up button on the lift, and try to steady the rapid beat of my heart. I need to remember to check that out later.
"The last thing we need to do is start a huge panic. We don't know nearly enough about this alternate reality to justify telling anyone anything. I won't be the reason more people are killed, Reed... I won't."
He doesn't have a response, and for that I'm quite grateful. Reed isn't really a man of understanding or compassion. Not when it comes to social issues. I really don't need to hear anything he has to say, especially if it's an attempt at making me feel better. Knowing him, I'll just want to kill myself afterward instead. I'm already half way there after what just happened downstairs.
"I'm headed back over to the Baxter Building. Call me if you actually need me for anything." Reed says, hanging back in the elevator as I step forward onto my floor.
Wincing a bit at his tone, I wave him off a bit,
"Yeah yeah."
I'm already half way down the hallway before the doors have shut, a part of me unable to silence that voice in the back of my head that keeps saying...
'This is why you don't have any real friends, Tony.'... but what does it know? I have friends. They help me out all the time. 'No, they help the world out. You just make things easier for them.'
Sighing, I push in the doors to my office a little harder than I mean to, the backs of them slamming against the walls on either side. I'm not irritated because I can't afford the damage I just caused, I'm just upset that it happened because I can't calm the voices in my head. Christ, I'm starting to sound like Deadpool.
"Tony?"
I glance over my shoulder, and do everything in my power to avoid an aggravated sigh,
"What is it, Pepper?"
She stands there as I begin to take off my suit, waiting without a word until the inner armour has almost completely covered my body.
"What's going on?"
Pulling the rest of my clothes off, I open the briefcase, and begin to assemble the external pieces of my suit.
"You're going to have to be a bit more specific."
"Well, you could start with the big ol' portals that opened up over New York City this morning." She says snidely.
I slide the helmet over my head, but don't close the visor.
"You were there for the press conference."
"Oh, so you want me to believe that's all you know..." She sighs heavily, "Okay, whatever. What about YOU?"
Dodging around her, despite her remarkable job of blocking most of my doorway, I make my way out onto the balcony just outside of my office. I had it built originally as a Zen sort of thing. A place to relax me whenever I needed it... and boy do I need it often. But it eventually turned into much more than that... including an exit... and on a couple of instances... a place where women loved to try out the whole Garden of Eden thing.
"What about me?"
"You think I don't notice, Tony? You're sleeping a lot more lately, barely focused... I don't think I've seen you eat in four days." She practically shouts, maneuvering around me enough to stop me just about half way to the giant Iron Man statue that my decorator insisted was necessary for some reason. I dunno, I kind of like it.
"I'm fine." I lie, not really wanting to get into the fact that I've been feeling more and more sick lately.
Pepper's face turns from worried, to irritated. With a little more force than I would've liked, she pushes the visor shut over my face, and turns away from me.
"Fine. You don't want to talk to me about what's wrong? I can't make you. Good luck, Iron Man."
I sigh heavily, and wait just a little too long to reply. "Pepper, wait..." By the time I've spoken, she's already back inside, and I'm left alone with my thoughts in the garden. That's never a good thing these days.
"Is this a bad time?" Turning around, I see the man I'd befriended earlier floating in mid-air - His arms folded across his chest, his cape billowing slightly in the light breeze. Like a half-hearted flag waving on a pole.
I jump a bit at the sound of his voice, momentarily at a loss for anything that remotely resembles a word. Truthfully, between that press conference, the situation with Pepper, and the horrible ache rising in my chest, I'm a little on edge at the moment.
"Hmm? Oh... no. Not really...um... Kal, was it?"
"You can call me Superman, if it's easier." He smiles.
"Superman. Okay. That's easy enough." I reply, taking a step closer to him. "You seem to be finding your way around town pretty easily... considering where you're from."
He slowly descends, his feet touching the ground a few steps away from me. His face mildly contorts, as if he doesn't quite know how to take that comment.
"Does this mean you've found something?" He asks, eventually. "About our current situation, I mean."
"Yeah, but every time it's said out loud, it sounds more and more like lunacy. Reality jumping... I'll never get used to it." I pause for a second, noticing rather quickly that I've lost him. "Sorry. We think that you, and everyone else that came with you out of those gateways are from some kind of... alternate reality."
He nods slowly,
"Going by what I've seen today, that is what I'd suspected..." He lowers his head for a moment, brow crinkled as if in thought. "... I may have some friends who might be able to help, if I can contact them or if they were even on planet at the time..."
"I'm sure Reed would appreciate a new perspective on the whole thing. He thinks he might be able to figure out how to reverse the gateways, but the trouble we're facing right now is getting it open again. My concern is the damage it might do to the other side... your world... what with the explosion that comes with it." Not that I think anything was left alive there. At least not people.
"Reed? Is he a noted scientist of this world?" He asks.
"He's the best, if you want my opinion. If anyone can get you back, it's him. With a little help from me, of course." I know I sound a bit arrogant when I say that, but I really don't care. Fact is fact.
"I can't tell you how much I appreciate it." He says, genuinely. "In fact, that's what I cam here to talk about - I've been in contact with some of the heroes from my world, and we need your help Tony."
"Of course. What can I do?" I ask, folding my arms against my chest and tilting my head to the side.
"Some of my world's brightest minds and bravest men and women are out there." He turns, looking out across the cityscape. "And if we're going to find out what happened and who did this - We need some kind of... Organised effort between the heroes of these two worlds, and to bring them all together in one place. I was hoping you'd be able to help me with that."
I smile, and nod my head slowly once again.
"You're standing on top of The Avengers headquarters. We have more than enough room to accommodate anyone you might need to bring in. I've already taken the liberty of publicly announcing this, so it's possible some of your friends are already on their way."
"Thank you." He smiles again, turning back towards him. "There was one other thing..."
"Sure. What is it?"
"I understand times are hard, and you have every right to say no..." He pauses for a moment, before continuing. "... But on a more personal note, there are some people... Friends of Ms. Lane... If you could find them places to stay near her, I'd be forever in your debt."
"No problem. Just have them contact my office, and my assistant will arrange everything. In the meantime, I was heading back over to Peterson's office right now to check on the other people that I brought in there. Want to tag along?"
"I'm afraid I can't. Have a meeting with a martian." He holds out his hand. "Thank you Tony, for everything."
I take it firmly, and give a good, solid shake. "You can thank me once we figure out a way to get you home." The jets in my boots activate, and I rise up about six feet before looking back down, and saying, "Although maybe you could tell the press that Iron Man's not such a bad guy... get them off my back for a day."
"I'll try - But I don't think I quite have the credibility I have at home."
"Heh. Still has to be better than mine." I joke, giving a small wave. "Until next time."
"Until next time." He nods.
The suit rapidly takes me up into the sky, the roar of the wind almost soothing as I depart from Stark Tower. I love this suit. I really do. My whole life I felt like something was missing. That out of all the things I'd accomplished, both academically and career wise, nothing could every truly make me happy. A shrink would argue that's why I fell into alcoholism, and promiscuity... but I try not to listen to that garbage. Mostly because it's true, and offends me. Anyway, when I started using the suit on a regular basis... I found a level of freedom I'd never experienced before. I wasn't just making the tools needed to save the world anymore. I was using them. Despite everything, I let a smile creep across my face. I AM doing good in this world. The media be damned.
I take a shortcut towards Peterson's office, and try to remember which spare armani suit I'd left there last time I'd had to take an emergency call. I was pretty sure there was at least one, maybe two... so I might have my choice in colour. That would be nice.
--------------------
"I never claimed what I did was right, Bats! Just fun!" - The Joker, Batman: Fading Smile |
|
| Ignite |
| Posted: Jan 1 2010, 09:51 PM |
|
|
Aren't You Sorry You Woke Me Up So Early?
Group: Moderators
Posts: 251
Member No.: 12
Joined: 14-December 03
|
IC: Mary-Jane Parker
4:10 PM
Peter sits in the chair next to the bed. His leg is bouncing as he stares at the television. Seeing the destruction on the TV and him just sitting there … he’s not handling it well. I turn the TV to mute and brush his hair out of his eyes when he looks up at me.
“You can go if you need to,” I say quietly.
“No. I’m staying here,” he says gripping my hand. He rests his head against my shoulder. “I’m not leaving you.”
I smile at him and turn my attention back to the muted TV, barely catching the end of what looks like a press conference. Peter and I sit in silence and soon he’s half asleep, his thumb absently stroking the palm of my hand.
Tony peers his head through the half open door, tapping his knuckles on the front of it lightly as he brushes his hair back away from his forehead. "Hello again."
I give Tony a smile and sit up a little straighter. I feel Peter next to me do the same, shaking his head to clear out the sleepiness, I’m sure. "Hi, Mr. Stark," I say, a little nervously.
He holds up his hand, and shakes his head, "Please. Call me Tony." His attention turns to Peter, that same hand lowering down to shake Peter's. "I don't believe we've officially met. You're Peter Parker, am I correct?"
Pete rises to his feet rapidly, something small, and red dropping from his back pocket onto the floor at their feet. By the panicked gibberish now pouring out of Peter's mouth, it was quite obvious what that red piece of fabric had been. "I... uh... how did..." He tries to shake Tony’s hand and pick up the mask at the same time. All his spider grace fails him in that moment. I hide a smile.
Tony smiles, kneeling down to pick it up himself when Peter seems to be unable. He doesn't even attempt to inspect the mask, instead handing it over as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
He turns back to me. "I do hope you're feeling better, M.J. Did Dr. Peterson give you anything for the pain?"
I wipe at my eyes, somewhat embarrassed at how I can only imagine I look. I give Peter my most reassuring smile as he stuffs the mask back in his pocket, his face red and still slightly panicked. "I'm alright," I say, turning my smile to Tony. "Thank you, Tony, for coming to check up on me. And for calling Peter." I reach over and squeeze Peter's hand.
"Yes, thank you, Tony ... uh ... sir," Peter says, glancing back at me looking shaken and nervous. I don’t know who he’s more excited about meeting. Tony Stark the scientist, or Iron Man the leader of the Avengers.
"Heh, no thanks necessary, really." He says, eyeballing the television set in the corner of the room that was still on mute. "Don't suppose the two of you caught my press conference."
I shake my head, quickly turning the sound back on, hoping it might still be on. It’s not, back to news reports. Somehow I feel like it might offend him that we missed it. I blush slightly.
"Ah." Tony finds himself a seat near the door, and helps himself to it. For almost a minute he sits there in silence, his brow crinkled in deep thought. "I only bring it up in light of... recent information." He says, watching Peter carefully as he lowers himself back down into his own chair. "Certain skills will be required to help everyone deal with this situation. Skills that The Avengers are now actively seeking."
Peter shifts uncomfortably, and runs his hand along the back of his neck,
"So you need science teachers?"
Tony again smiles, although this time it doesn't seem as warm. "Sure. Science teachers." Getting up from his seat, he reaches into his jacket, and pulls out a small business card with the Stark Logo on it. "I'll let the two of you discuss it, and you can get back to me."
Peter takes the card and turns it over between his fingers. "I need to be here with MJ."
I smile at Peter and take the card from his hand to look at it myself. "I'm OK, Peter."
"I understand if you want to be with your wife, Mr. Parker. You should." He says with a nod, "I'll leave you two be. I don't want to keep you when..." Tony pauses, cocking his head to the side, and looking at Peter strangely. "Are you all right?"
Peter doesn't reply directly to him, instead his focus solely on the television above their heads. "Oh God..."
One look at the TV makes my heart drop. I scramble for the remote for a second and turn the sound back on.
"Witnesses are saying some kind of bird like creature that came out of the bright lights this morning is responsible for this disaster. Police, and rescue workers have been unable to get close enough to tend to any possible survivors." There is no mistaking the row of houses behind the reporter... it was May's house.
Tony glances up at the screen, then back down. "Did I miss something?"
"It's Aunt May's house," I whisper, touching Peter's wrist, lightly. "You have to go."
Tony steps out of Peter's way as he dashes for the door, calling out one thing over his shoulder before vanishing completely.
"I'll be back. I promise!"
For a second or two it appears as if he's at a loss for words, Tony glancing around the room a bit nervously as he tries to take in the situation. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"No. It's not you," I say, covering my mouth with a shaky hand. "Just a bad day," I add quietly. I wipe a stray tear from my cheek, glaring at it on my hand. I had finally calmed myself down by the time Peter came back from getting cleaned up earlier.
He frowns, taking a few careful steps forward as he pulls out his handkerchief, and offers it to me. "I'm sure you've been asked this a bunch of times already, but... are you really all right?"
I glance back at the television seeing Aunt May's house there behind the reporter who's still talking. The faint beeping of the machines monitoring my blood pressure and pulse and God only knows what else. Finally I glance back at Tony and shake my head, unable to get any words out.
"I'm so sorry." He says quietly, "Have you... told him yet?"
I open and close my mouth before shaking my head again. I thought I was hiding it well. If he knows without me saying anything then Peter must … I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. "No ... I mean ... how could I?" I glance back at the TV before turning it off. "I can't let him worry about me when he's ..." I gesture at the now blank TV. Trying to stay vague, even though it’s obviously not needed any longer.
There was a brief moment of hesitation as if Tony was deciding on whether or not approaching would be breaking any unspoken boundaries. He sighs a bit, sinking down onto the bed beside me, and placing a hand on mine. "Can I give you my honest opinion?"
I nod slowly, swallowing nervously. I’m not entirely sure I want to hear what he has to say. “Honesty would be nice,” I mutter.
"This isn't something you should suffer through alone, MJ. You can believe me when I tell you that when so many lives are in someone's hands... they sometimes forget to pay attention to the ones that mean the most." He runs his free hand through his hair, and clears his throat a little. This subject is clearly not a very easy one for him either. "Look, all I'm saying is that yeah, the man has a lot on his plate, but so do you. You have to tell him."
I smile lightly. "I can't. Especially not now. Not with everything else. Aunt May ... Oh God, if Aunt May is ..." I sigh. "I'll tell him. Just ... not today. Not now."
"Is there anything I can do?" He asks, "Keep you company, maybe? I have a couple decks of cards in my right pocket. Could teach you how to play Texas Hold'em."
I smile at him and nod. "I'd like that." I pause, "But don't you have to go ... save the world?"
He returns the smile, and pulls the two promised decks from his jacket pocket. "I am. One life at a time. Would you like to deal first, or should I?"
"You deal," I say with a mischievous smirk. "But, you'll have to teach me," I say turning the smirk into feigned innocence. "I probably won't be very good."
He laughs, opening the packages, and shuffling the cards together.
"You know, in my experience, women make better card players than men."
"You sound surprised by that, Mr. Stark," I say with a wink.
"Oh, not at all." He defends, "In situations like that, the odds are against men from the start. After all, most of them can't keep their head in the game once a beautiful woman such as yourself joins in. It's a brilliant tactic, if you ask me."
"Oh really," I laugh. "Any other tactics I might be able to use against you? I mean, I’ve never played before. I don't want to rely on beginner's luck."
Tony deals the cards with as much finesse, and skill as a Vegas dealer.
"Well, whenever I have a bad hand, I tend adjust my tie. Nervous tick. Can't get rid of it."
I sit up straighter, folding my legs, touching the backs of my cards as he lays them down. "OK, now what do I want here? I mean what's a good hand?"
"Okay, so the best hand you can hope for is a Royal Flush. Ace, King, Queen, Jack and 10, all the same suit. But I've been gambling away money for a long time, and have only managed one of those once... so... if you get one, I'm bringing you with me next time I go to Vegas." |
|
| Peter Parker |
| Posted: Jan 9 2010, 08:32 PM |
|
|
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man
Group: Member
Posts: 121
Member No.: 89
Joined: 31-August 04
|
IC: Spider-Man
4:13 pm
Shoot, tuck, extend, release.
Shoot, tuck, extend, release.
Shoot, tuck, extend, release.
I know the rhythm instinctively, so it doesn't distract me from the fact that I hated leaving MJ....Hated it from the bottom of my soul. Something terrible has happened, I just know it, and she's not letting me in......not telling me, and I don't want to admit to myself what it could be, because if....
We've both faced our share of trauma, and when someone as strong as she is clams up about something, it can't be good. And then she turned on the TV. My stomach plunged the moment that news report came in, the soul sickening certainty so clear, so violating that I almost wanted to throw up.
It's happening again.
I try to protect the little guy, the ones nobody cares about, but no matter how hard I try, it's the people I care about who always suffer.
Sirens below me, screams, shouts, clouds of smoke visible from miles away-one to the east, across the river in Queens- show me what a gosh-darned bangup job I'm doing on that particular score.
Great job, Parker: You got your uncle killed, you couldn't protect your own city, you couldn't protect your own wife.....Disaster seems to just pursue you, doesn't it? Now I drop my mask in front of Iron Man himself! Either my luck is mind numbingly good (riiiight...), or his eyesight and/or attention span are atrocious.....or he saw. The first time I had dealings with Stark or the Avengers, I was just starting out, a teenaged idiot in every sense of the word, and frankly, the way I acted makes my toes curl in abject embarrassment every time I remember it.
Of course, that was before I understood that I don't belong on a team, especially among the big leaguers. I have no right to be on one. Teams like that are for heroes.
And now the one thing I've feared from the beginning, the cause of years of phantom dread and nightmares and lies ... it's come to Aunt May. Oh dear God....
I swing hard, fast,the cacophony of shouts hundreds of feet below, the paintive wail and rumble of rescue vehicles in the streets, the crunch of falling rubble, the choking pall of dust punctuating my helplessness...helplessness that quickly escalates into anger. I let go my line, somersault and lob out another ignoring the stinging in my wrists and the throb my ribs and aching muscles. My suit is shredded from the day's work of digging through rubble, being caught in two building collapses this morning and I'm sore and bloodied, and plagued more than ever by the niggling feeling that's been gnawing at me of late:
Maybe it's nerves, but more and more, I'm getting this sinking feeling that my time and luck are finally about to run out.
Screw this. I've seen enough people die today. And I don't care if it's a super villain with a god-complex or some fat nebbish dabbling in chaos magic, nobody messes with my family. Nobody. I pass the warehouse district, run out of landmarks to toss a webline at, so I drop two stories,, tumble to a landing, roll to my feet and sprint as fast as I can across the roofs of the warehouses, leaping from roof to roof. Sixty miles an hour, seventy. My heart thunders in my chest as I make the leap, the brown waters of the river rushing up to meet me as I stretch out an arm and fire off a line, not bothering to look if it catches or not.
Thwip! Twang! The web catches, stretches taut, recoiling from the bottom most strut of the bridge, which is jammed to a total standstill with traffic, emergency vehicles left to flash their lights and sit and stew . I swing under the bridge and pull hard, gain altitude and run up the flaking grey painted girders supporting the sides, leaping and flipping across the top of the latticework structure, wind rushing at me, mixed with smells of smog, car exhaust, and acrid smoke from just across the river.
No missing that column of smoke now. The place must be a war zone.
I skid to a halt and see just why nothing can get through: there's a twenty foot chunk of the bridge span missing. Dammit, nothing I can do...There's nothing I can use to make a temporary bridge, and even if I could I doubt it would hold the weight of an emergency vehicle.
Dammit!!
I swing across, land hard, not slowing down and leap frog the traffic lights and enter the familiar outskirts of the neighborhood I grew up in, and what I see freezes my blood with revulsion and sick horror.
The smoke is closer now, and the streets are strewn with so much debris, crashed vehicles and downed poles. I get closer, the dread knotting my guts as I close in enough to begin to make out details, blocks away. Unneccessarilly, my extra sense starts to tingle.
Is that my roof? .... What's left of my roof.
My stomach plunges. That's where the column of smoke is coming from, I realize numbly.
I race madly, heedlessly, hopping rooftops, swinging from tree to light pole, by web and hand over hand, somersault off the last of a line of roofs and land in a crouch in the middle of the ruined street....The house I grew up in is half demolished, the front half shorn off as if by the capricious sweep of a giant's hand. Electrical lines hiss and crackle and spark and smoke belches from the flaming hulk of the house next door and the wreckage of my aunt's house. Through the swirling billows of black smoke , the street itself is cracked and pocked and ruptured, sheets of concerete blossoming outwards from smoking hole like a giant cement flower.
As I strain to see through the choking pall of dust and smoke, I see a flash of movement....What the hell?!
Squinting through the haze, I peer at, not twenty feet away, a tall, powerfully muscled, bare chested...well, I think it's a man, anyway. Mutant? Is that Warren?
But then I see that his head is hidden in a golden, birdlike helmet and two, enormous grey wings rustle and flatten against his back as I approach, the feathers move faintly in the pall of dust and smoke. In terms of looking impressive, even Warren Worthington III has nothing on this guy.
In his hand he brandishes a huge, wicked looking footman's mace and he looms over a crumpled and bloodied form.
It almost looks like.....No!
Aunt May.....
Desperately, in that part of my mind still capable of rational thought, I realize I have to get her to a hospital, but first I have to get her away from this maniac, who looks for all the world like a human bird of prey, grim and hard and unyielding, and he seems utterly and callously indifferent to the carnage.
"What did you do?" I demand in horror and outrage.
Torn and bloodied already, I round slowly on him, muscles coiled, keeping out of the reach of that murderous weapon. He moves like Punisher does, with alertness and predatory economy. His mouth-all I can see of his face-is compressed in a harsh, emotionless line, thin white scars crisscrossing his broad arms and chest, overlaid with newer, angrier scars.
If he's killed her....
"WHAT DID YOU DO???!!?"
--------------------
|
|
|
