[IC] All-Star Marvel: Audax Mundus Novus

[Dedonus]

Peter Parker | Angelica Jones
It had been so long since Peter had swung around the skyline of New York City. He almost forgot the adrenaline rush he would get from swinging around on his weblines. Before he became Spider-Man, heights bothered him. However, there was something different about web-swinging. He was in control. He was not relying on any railing, or the engines of a plane, or the cables of a ski lift. This control somehow made the situation feel different where he was able to get over his issues with heights.

Flying beside Peter was Angelica in her yellow and red costume. Angelica did not need anything to assist her flight: her microwave powers generated enough energy to propel her through the air with ease. This was almost the ultimate form of control. Peter had to rely on being able to hit sides of buildings or other objects to continue swinging. But her? As long as her mutant powers kept working, all she had to do was fly.

SNAP!

Suddenly, Peter found himself plummeting towards the ground. Peter wondered what he was thinking when he absent-mindedly took several month old cartridges of his artificial web fluid out for a spin. It was only a matter of time before this would happened. Peter stretched out his hand and compressed the trigger to his web-shooter. However, nothing happened!

“Great!” Peter thought to himself, “Not only am I using web fluid well beyond its expiration date, but the web-shooters I’m using are in desperate need of repair.”

“PETER!” Angelica rushed down toward her friend as he fell toward the streets of New York City that were below them. With an extra burst of speed from her microwave powers, Firestar reached her friend and wrapped her arms around his torso, under his arms. Then, she focused her powers on propelling the two of them away from the ground.

“Thanks, Angel” Peter said with a great sigh of relief after his friend had reached the roof of one of the neighboring buildings.

“That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?” Angelica gave Peter a smile and a wink. “Maybe you should refrain from swinging around until you got a properly mixed batch of web fluid.”

“You think?”

Before Angelica could make a response, both the young heroes heard a sonic boom from below them. Peter, crawling down the side of the building, covered the distance between the top of the roof down to the street floor in a blink of an eye. Swiftly behind him, but not at the same speed at which Peter had went, Angelica followed.

“Oh, Shocker, I see that you’re still wearing your yellow pajamas in public!” Peter mocked the villain as the latter walked calmly out of the bank door, blasted out with his vibro-shock units.

“Looks like destiny has brought us together to break our little tie that we made in our last two encounters.” Shocker answered, seemingly ignoring Spider-Man’s attempt to ridicule him. Then he saw Firestar float down beside Spider-Man. “I see that you needed to bring your girlfriend along to break this tie.”

While he was chuckling at calling Firestar Spider-Man’s ‘girlfriend’, Shocker did not realize that Peter had already dashed forward toward him. Before Shocker could even notice Spider-Man’s attack, let alone lifting up his vibro-shock units to face him, Peter had already slammed the Shocker into the bank wall.

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND,” Peter yelled at the Shocker, “THE WOMAN I LOVED IS DEAD AND NO ONE WILL EVER REPLACE HER!”

Peter released a fury of punches at the Shocker, each blow hitting its mark, no matter what the Shocker tried to do to avoid Peter’s anger.

“SPIDEY, STOP!” Angelica yelled at her friend, “You already knocked him out.”

Peter, finally snapping out of his rage after he heard his friend’s plead, looked at the unconscious body in his hands. Already hearing the screams that were echoing from the sirens of the approaching police cars, Peter set the unconscious Shocker against the bank wall. Then he darted back up the building’s wall, embarrassed at his burst of rage.

“Spidey, wait!” But in spite of Angelica’s pleas, Peter did not head them as he continued up the side of the building. Angelica only had one option: to follow him. And that what she did, zooming up the side of the building to catch up to her friend.

[Nosuchthing]

Anna Marie

Since the emergence of mutants everything had gone wrong, Anna Marie had never understood why she could do what she could do, for a while she had half believed that she was a demon like her dad had said, but now it seemed she wasn’t cursed by god or the devil, just by Darwin. Evolution had made her into a danger to her fellow humans, cursed to never even be able to touch another human being. For a while she’d had… companions at least, her old team mates had never really been friends, but they’d had something in common, abilities, and ‘mama’, though they never called her that. Then…

---

A blur of movement flashed through the air and Anna Marie felt the wind knocked out of her. She gasped in shock and pain as what felt like a bus collided with her stomach. She spun across the floor, crashing into the wall in a heap, she cried out at the impact.

A figure stood over Anna Marie, adorned in a costume, her age and appearance concealed by the simple mask across her eyes. She reached down and seized a handful of Anna Marie’s top pulling her to her feet and holding her a fraction above the ground, leaving her toes dangling. Then they took off until they were hovering a hundred feet above the ground.

“I-“

The hero’s eyes widened and her mouth opened but she didn’t make a sound. The veins stood out on her face and she froze unable to move, unable to act, only able to stare in horror at the girl she was suspending high above the earth. Then they began to fall and the light in her eyes began to dim, her mouth opened in a silent scream. Anna Marie felt the sudden surge of power, more than she’d ever experienced before, and the fall halted. She kept tight hold of the other girl, not willing to let her fall to her death, and she felt the power and memories rushing into her…

---

The diner was small, but so was the town, and the whole area was the kind of place that didn’t pay much attention to national events, so long as they didn’t bother their idyllic existence. She’d been here for two months, moving here in search of work, it was an excuse which seemed to apply everywhere, after all, jobs were hard to come by in the current climate. She still had some money from her previous, illicit activities, but there wasn’t much, and if she simply spent money people might take notice, might ask questions.

She didn’t want to hurt anyone, she never had, but everything had just caught up to her, and now she could lift cars, she could fly, and unlike earlier experiences, these powers showed no signs of fading. Still, they had their advantages she mused, as she carefully piloted the overloaded trays to their destination. The Rentons again, they were a nice family, but she preferred it when it was just the mother and father, when their son, a burly quarterback named Sam, was in she could feel his eyes on her. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, he didn’t leer, he wasn’t rude, but he liked her. It was sweet, and in another world maybe she and him could have dated, he seemed nice enough, but dating was out of the question.

Unfortunately, today his gaze seemed to have changed a little, had he finally decided to make a move? Done simply flirting with her when she was on shift? She’d done her best not to respond to his efforts, but she knew the stereotype of playing hard to get, she only hoped turning him down didn’t piss him off, or his family for that matter, she really didn’t need enemies in town, she had enough problems.

There were a few hours left on her shift, but they passed quickly, and before long she was walking out of the diner door, coat thrown over her uniform. She would usually change at home, town was small enough that there was no point in bringing a change of clothes to work, she could walk home in a matter of minutes. Although, she sighed, not tonight it seemed. There was Sam Renton, stood on the sidewalk outside the diner, he wasn’t looking at the diner, but he turned as he heard the door and her footsteps.

“Hey, Anna Marie, I wanted to ask, are you busy on Friday?”

“Ummm…”

[The New Yorker]

South Bronx, New York
September 7th, 2013
11:23 AM

Remy laid half nude atop the motel bed, his white boxers caught the sunlight like a crystal, refracting and reflecting. He snored loudly for a moment, which turned into a steady moan. He fumbled with the pillow as if it were uncomfortable and turned into a fetal position. A small discolored circle on Remy’s waist was all that was left of his physical wounds from the fateful day when he lost his family; the mental wounds would always be there, like a ghost, they would appear and chill him to the bones.

A quiet noise breached the humid summer silence. A humming signaled the presence of a drone, it’s shadow was cast into the motel room from the window. The little white floating robot was no larger than a microwave, no smaller than a toaster. It was a disk with an armored shell. A small prong extended from its centrifugal form and tapped the window, it shattered. Remy awoke violently from his sleep, in a moment he was stood atop the bed. The little drone expertly floated into room and landed on the floor, a hologram appeared above it, Fence’s face.

“Glad to see you’re up.” Fence was sitting in a train headed down the eastern seaboard, he’d catch a biplane in Florida. Fence was rather picky about how he traveled, never in a way where he was completely trapped in, what he considered, a death trap. He’d fly the biplane, he could leave the train at any of the many stops. He was sitting in a private booth by himself, speaking into his newly fixed HUD.

“I wasn’t till yo’ damn drone came through the window!” Remy sat at the edge of the bed, lazily stared at the virtual representation of Fence. “What dis doing here anyway?”

“I’m on my way down to Florida, I won’t be able to meet you. But, HARDy here has some equipment and documents for you. I found a place for you to stay, a friendly place. Make sure you read everything I sent you before you head out…”

“HARDy?”

“Oh, yeah, I built him last night, while you were out. Cool hu? It stands for Helpful Assistance and Recon Drone.”

“Well, dat’s just adorable.” Remy responded as he wiped the tiredness from his eyes. “When will you be back?”

“I’d like to be back by Monday, we should be able to hit the target a few days after that.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t say too much over dese channels.” Remy felt a little vulnerable in this motel. He knew the espionage game, he knew the different ways in which people could gather information. Remy was pretty sure no one had followed him to the motel, so physical surveillance was very unlikely. And, of course, Remy trusted Fence’s encryption methods. But if there is one thing the Cajun learned during his escapades with espionage types, it was that you could never be too careful, or too paranoid.

“Please, Remy. I built HARDy, and set up his comm channels myself. Do you think I’d leave a hole in the gate? Don’t insult me. This is a secure channel. Anyway, see ya!” Fence replied, smiling. He was proud of Remy, they were going into the breach, two adventurers out on a limb. Remy was always prepared, always thinking; Fence couldn’t think of a better partner.

The hologram disappeared and the drone lifted off of the ground, that’s when Remy noticed he wasn’t being controlled, HARDy was intelligent. He hovered right over the bed, the cameras twirled from the plastic band running along it’s center, positioning itself perfectly over the pillow. A PDA fell from a compartment at the bottom of the drone’s body, a GPS came out behind it, and then a paintball case filled with the prototype metal balls.

The twitching feet came back into Remy’s mind, his throat ripped to pieces by metal bits and his face burned to a crisp. Seeing the metal orbs again made him feel a twinge of regret, they were killing machines, especially when combined with Remy’s deadly powers. Cards were far less deadly. Sure, there would be scratches, at the worst someone would die days later from impact shock, but nothing so brutal as fragmentation explosions.

“Hey, can I speak to Fence again, HARDy?”

HARDy bobbed a little in the air, hovered over to the ground and sat again. Fence came up as a hologram moments later.

“Fence.”

“Yes, Remy.” Fence seemed a little annoyed. The fact was that a very beautiful woman had slipped into his booth, she was a bit of a technophile, it seemed. There was a blossoming of those. Fence had just promised to order a bottle of chardenea.

“I don’t know if I want to use these pellets.”

“Why?”

“I killed an agent last night…”

“What?!? Where?”

“In my apartment, it was terrible. There was shrapnel, Fence.”

“Yeah, I was worried about that. The batch I just gave you have been redesigned. The shrapnel was an accidental consequence of the old design. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I think I’ll be alright. It’s not the first time I’ve killed a government official.”

There was an eerie quietness over the line, both Remy and Fence were embarrassed by that truth; each for different reasons. “Anything else?” Fence finally asked.

Remy thought for a moment, shook his head. “No, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, HARDy will patch us through once you get to your new home.” And with a click the hologram was gone. HARDy zipped up and out of the room as Remy slid into his body suit.

59th St Subway station, New York
3:30 PM

The glistening A train started up and then chugged out of the station, almost everyone left on the platform made their way to the stairs. Remy, wrapped in his overcoat, slid into the shadows of the subway tunnel and began running down the darkened highway. A puddle of muck splashed under his feet as he detoured into a small hallway which ended in a manhole. Remy dropped down in and plunged even further into the muck. Remy ended up at a delta of sewage-ways, he stood on a platform on the side, looking down the red-lit corridor. Remy carried a duffle bag over his shoulder, he turned to his right and began walking. It was easy to ignore the smell, Remy had surprisingly been in worse. He smiled when he saw the green light which signaled the location of his safe zone. A vaulted door, outfitted with a security panel, shone in the verdant light. Remy plugged the numbers he’d been given into the keypad, a fingerprint scanner revealed itself directly below the keypad. Remy removed his glove, unlocked the door, and stepped in. It was a moderate space. Nearest the door was a small cot with a dresser at its feet. Opposite the cot was a couch and desk. Set up on a concrete dais was a kitchen area, a bathroom was hidden to the side behind an opened iron-bar gate.

Remy placed his bag down and sat on the cot, the vault door closed automatically behind him. “I could get used to this place,” Remy commented as he fell to the pillow, he’d need some rest before a heist Fence had planned for him for later that night.

[Schradinger]

Agent Designation: X-23
Mission Parameters: Training Scenario
Target Priority: None
Evaluation Commencing...

Yesterday it had been a bear. The day before, a mountain lion. It had been almost a week since she'd faced a human, or even another mutant. She preferred those fights. At least when it resembled a human she knew what to expect, how to anticipate. People were smart, and she knew how to counter smart. The animals were worse. Nothing but feral instincts and the need to kill. If you cut a human deep enough, they'd back off to regroup and recover and plan a new approach, but with these animals it didn't matter how deep the cut was, they wouldn't stop coming until either you or them was dead.

It probably didn't help that they were genetically and cybernetically enhanced too. Teeth and claws sharp enough to rend steel, and speed and strength that far outstripped her own. Every time, the odds got stacked higher against her, and every time she was in worse shape when she finally put them down.

Today, the room was pitch black except for a single light shining down on the center where she stood, so so caught their scent before she saw them. They smelled like wolves, but... wrong somehow. Like someone had taken the pure intent of nature and twisted it, deforming it into a creation that only vaguely resembled the original creature. She saw the eyes next, almost glowing with a dark red hue that caught the light above and turned it back on her. Her heartbeat quickened and her nostrils flared as she strained to determine how many there were exactly. Her ears told her at least five, but her nose was picking up over a dozen scents that weren't her own.

She really hoped that was just Harkins pumping chemicals into the room to mess with her. Her heart sank at the thought he might not be, that the pack surrounding her might actually be more than a dozen strong, and every muscle in her body went rigid. In truth, she was grateful for the fear. For the adrenaline it brought. She was going to need every edge she could get, and the adrenaline with its boost to her strength and speed and stamina was more than welcome.

The first attack came from behind, and her only warning was the subtle scratching of claws on the metal floor. She reacted on instinct, whirling and unsheathing her claws as she drove a fist toward the predator's temple. Her blow struck true, driving into the creature's head and killing it instantly, but it was no ordinary wolf. With nearly twice the size and four times the weight, its momentum was more than enough to drive her off her feet and into the darkness surrounding her small pool of light. What happened after would be little more than a blur of teeth, claws, and pain in her memory as the pack descended on her. When it was over, she stood broken and bloodied over the corpses of nine augmented wolves, her costume torn to shreds and her wounds still pouring blood as they began to close.

Exhausted, she dropped to her knees in the midst of the carnage and closed her eyes as tears began to stain her cheeks. Why? What did they want from her that they would put her through test after test designed to drain away every last shred of who she was? Sometimes, it seemed that there was no purpose beyond causing her pain, but the animalistic, primal part of her mind knew that these tests made her stronger. Knew that if she went back to the first creature she had struggled to defeat, it would be little more than trivial now. Pain was the quickest way to learn, and no one could endure more pain than her. No one she knew, anyway.

"Excellent work, 23. Report to the showers and clean yourself up."

She opened her eyes and glared at the now-transparent observation room windows and the man that stood beyond them, but was too exhausted to manage anything more. Slowly, she moved to comply with the order and made her way out of the testing room and toward the showers, already dreading whatever they had in store for her next.

[Dedonus]

Peter Parker | Angelica Jones
Peter and Angelica landed on the roof of The Shops at Atlas Park, a mall that was just southwest of Forest Hills. On the roof, the two teenagers attempted to change into their ‘normal’ clothes as quickly as possible. How disorderly and rushed they looked as they changed made them look like two teenagers scrambling to throw on their clothes when one of their parents unexpectedly arrived home in the middle of some hanky-panky (as Peter’s Aunt May would call it). However, this is not the case for Peter and Angelica. Their primary concern was to prevent anyone from seeing them while changing from their ‘super hero’ costumes back into their ‘regular’ clothes.

Once fully dressed in their street clothes, Peter scaled down the side of the building on a webline with Angelica clinging to his shoulders, using his ‘Spider-Sense’ to make sure that no one would see them coming down from the roof. The two strolled through the shopping complex, hoping to calm Peter down from his little ‘mishap’ earlier that evening. After peering through several stores and side shops, the two friends headed over towards the Chili’s restaurant in that complex for dinner. While 20 dollars for a two person meal was not the cheapest option in the world (dollar menu for the win ), Peter and Angelica do not have many opportunities for hanging out and having a nice meal was worth the price.

After they had been seated at a booth and had been served a half order of Texas Cheese Fries, Angelica hesitantly brought what had happened earlier back up.

“So, who’s this ‘Shocker’ guy?” Angelica asked Peter, keeping her voice down so that the other costumers could not understand what they were saying.

Peter just rolled his eyes. “Some mercenary with a worse sense of humor than me, and that’s saying something! He only beat me once because I was under the weather and I bruised my arm. My arm wasn’t quite broken, but it still impeded my effectiveness. Then after a couple good night sleeps, I was as healthy as a horse and easily showed him who’s boss. The better question is how in the world did he get out of prison?”

Angelica just shrugged her shoulders at Peter’s last question, not knowing the answer. The two friends continued making some small talk about their coming Junior year in high school (Midtown High for Peter and Xavier Institute of Higher Learning for Angelica), eating their appetizer as they waited for their meals.

On one of the television sets in the bar area of the restaurant, appeared the image of J. Jonah Jameson, the editor-in-chief and publisher of the Daily Bugle. When Peter saw the face of the man who was waging a one-man slander war against Spider-Man, Peter knew what was going to be coming up next.

“I believe that Spider-Man’s recent actions have proven that he is a menace to society! Physically assaulting a man in plain sight! What has this world come to?”

One of the news anchors asked “triple-J” whether the fact that the man, who was assaulted by Spider-Man, was a criminal changed the opinion of the owner of Daily Bugle.

“Of course not!” Jameson retorted, “Today we are lucky that he brutalized a criminal. But what about tomorrow? What will prevent him from attacking some little old lady? He has to be stopped and I plan on spearheading his downfall!”

After Peter and Angelica had finished eating their meals and paying the bill, the two headed out from the restaurant, about ready to head their separate ways.

“Don’t listen to that hot-head.” Angelica told Peter, mentioning the poison that Jameson had just spewed over the national television.

“Don’t worry about me. If I can’t endure some baseless slander, I probably should throw in the towel now.” Peter smiled at his friend. After this, there was a moment of awkward silence, neither knowing what more to say to the other. Finally, Angelica was the one who broke this silence.

“Peter, just remember that your friends are all around you. You don’t need to heal from those recent tragedies alone.” Angelica wrapped her arms around Peter, encompassing him in an embrace. “We all still love you, Pete. Never forget that.”

There was again another pause, another moment of silence. Angelica seemed to look like she wanted to say something else, something more to her heart-hurt friend. However, she obviously decided against it, as with this silence, they parted ways, heading back to their respective homes.

[Nosuchthing]

This was awkward.

Anna Marie was no stranger to being asked out, though her self-esteem was poor, she was attractive, beautiful even. Her slim, toned form was often in receipt of appreciative glances and catacalls, and the streaks of white that ran through her hair only made her appear even more attractive, and undeniably exotic.

Sam was not the first boy she had turned down, and he would not be the last, but each time she felt the same loss. Not that she was particularly into him, though she could be, but that loss of intimacy, of any possibility of intimacy, that she could never regain. She couldn’t touch a boy, or kiss them, or anyone. Even an accidental brush of skin on skin could reduce the strongest man to a childlike weakling unable to stand.

“Ah’m sorry Sam, but ah can’t, you… you’re very sweet an’ all, but ah’m not the right gal for ya.”

His face fell, “but… I always thought you liked me…”

“No hun… ah just can’t OK?”

She continued to walk down the path, awkwardly trying to avoid his gaze, perhaps if she hadn’t, she would have seen what was coming.

He reached out to her arm, “Anna Marie…”

His eyes widened, veins stood out on his face, and a rattling breath escaped from his lungs. They stared at each other in horror, she wasn’t even sure how he had made contact with her skin, perhaps her jacket had ridden up.

He couldn’t seem to let go, and she could almost see the life draining from his eyes. With a cry of terror she snatched her arm away.

“What in the hell is going on out here?”

Anna Marie swore, the owner of the diner had just walked out in time to see Sam Renton, a six foot six, solidly built football player, collapse simply for touching her arm. The look on her face made it clear that she was responsible, and the owner suddenly looked frightened.

“You’re… You’re one of them mutants aren’t you?”

His voice rose, becoming aggressive, “you never told me you were a mutant, get outta here, you’re fired!”

Anna Marie took a step forward, wanting to explain, but the door slammed shut and clicked as it was locked, the owner scurrying off behind the counter and picking up the phone. She felt her eyes beginning to fill, and she turned and ran.

It was only a few blocks to her apartment, and she covered the distance in less than a minute, she wasn’t even breathing hard when she arrived, despite sprinting at full speed. She fumbled the keys in the lock, and in her frustration she simply kicked the door off its hinges. She already had a duffel, it was hidden under the bed mostly packed, she had gone through this before. She pushed a few things into it and slung it over her shoulder. It should have been heavy, but she wore it as easily as if it were a clutch purse. A moment later she was out of the door, and with a quick glance around to see that she was alone on the empty street, she was in the air.

Time to find a new home…

Again…

[Dedonus]

Miles Warren

Doctor Miles Warren frantically paced to and fro in his office. His desk that sat behind him was cluttered with loose-leaf papers, books, and reports. Some of this mess even spilled upon the floor. Warren had just endured a recent loss in his life a few months ago: the death of his intern and lab assistant, Gwen Stacy. She was one of most (if not most) talented intern that Warren had ever had. The depressed scientist truly believed that Ms. Stacy had a bright future in front of her and he would have been credited as the mentor of such a scientific prodigy. But all those dreams and hopes crashed down to earth once Gwen Stacy died on that faithful night. His road to fame died that night. Even if Warren made a scientific breakthrough in his lifetime, he knew deep inside himself that his recently deceased intern would have amounted to even more than him. Everything went to hell on the night when Gwen Stacy died. Then there came a few heavy knocks on Warren’s office door. Once he told whoever was on the other side of the door that the door was unlocked, Warren saw one of his colleagues, Damon Ryder, enter into his office. The two of them had been developing and improving cloning technology. Ryder desired to use their advances in order to reproduce extinct animals for the sake of scientific inquiry and study. However, recently Miles Warren had other plans. “Warren.” Ryder talked down to his colleague, “Did you put human samples in our cloning experiment? You do realize that that is illegal and unethical, right?” “Well,” Warren began as he turned toward Doctor Ryder, “Now that it has been born, we might as well let it grow. It would be just as unethical to kill an embryo, wouldn’t you say? “It’s too late for that. I already destroyed the sample. This institution cannot be caught with performing illegal experiments. Now don’t you every try a stunt like that again, do you hear me Warren?” Warren was filled with rage. Now, within a few months, he has seen Gwen Stacy die twice. Despite what reports that insinuated that the incarcerated criminal, the Jack O’ Lantern, said, due to some reports mentioning that web fluid residue was found on Gwen Stacy at the scene of the crime, Warren blamed the one spider-themed vigilante in New York City: Spider-Man. Warren has never actually seen Spider-Man before; nevertheless, he was adamant that Spider-Man was the cause of Gwen’s death. But now, in Warren’s mind, there were two culprits. First it was Spider-Man. The second was Doctor Ryder. While his colleague had turned to make his exit, Miles snatched the heaviest book he had from his desk and slammed it against the back of Ryder’s head, knocking the doctor out cold. “Yes, Ryder, I heard you.” Miles gloated over Ryder’s unconscious body. Then, Warren hastened to one of his filing cabinets and pulled out several files that were labeled “Project: Wundagore”. From these files, he took a vial that contained a clear liquid. Once he had that container, Warren hurried out of his office and broke into Ryder’s office. Ryder had collected numerous samples of extinct animals and plants with which he planned on using for his experiments once they had fully worked out all the bugs out of the current cloning technology. Once Warren had found the sample that he wanted, he dashed back to Ryder’s unconscious body. After he had combined the DNA sample with the “Project: Wundagore” liquid, Warren injected the concoction directly into the knocked out doctor. After the syringe was drained, Miles bent down and whispered into Ryder’s ear, even though he probably would not hear Miles. “Say hello to your wife and son for me.”