Enarr

Avengers: Heroes United!

The pace always slumps after five minutes, I know. I think we gotta work to fix our slow pace, though. Certainly one of us has the time to post each day.

Avengers: Heroes United!

Maybe staggering more low level threats would be more conducive to goading us into posting faster instead of going "Oh, a threat level 13. We've got two weeks to take care of that." But I think having only one encounter at a time would kill some of the fun.

Avengers: Heroes United!

Depending on whether Ink posts I can possibly squeeze out two posts tonight.

Titans: West Coast. (Teen Titans Roleplay)

Curtis Falconer was better know to the world as Aztek, a golden & white superhero who basically seemed to be effective at going round after round with edgier, more generally dangerous super-people, both heroes and villains. It had been a couple weeks since he'd been to the tower or spoken with most of the team, but his adventures in hometown Vanity City left him the slightest bit cynical. I swear to the Judeo-Christian God that if one of the new recruits has the words Blood, Death or Kill in their codename, we're going to have problems.

He struts up poolside in white and gold trunks, keeping with his usual color scheme. Beast Boy, by default of course, had done the same. While two girls, each with Star in their names, chatted poolside, Curt felt like making good use of the time, manufacturing memories he'd later cherish. One could say he had the spirit, but not the feeling . So he slumped into the water at the deep end before regulating himself to float. The water was cooler than anticipated.

"Hey Bee Bee! I bet I can hold my breath underwater longer than you can!"

Invitingly, he pulled his hand and forearm to his face, waving like he was frantically trying to kill a housefly. He wondered if there were mosquitos at this altitude. If nothing else, slaying the bloodsuckers like the foul demons they were would make a perfectly fine past time if nothing else come of this poolside business.

Titans: West Coast. (Teen Titans Roleplay)

Aztek

Name: Curtis Falconer
Alias: Aztek
Age: 17
Powers/Drawbacks: So you take this six year old kid, right? and you teach him how to box. He wins a fight against some kid a year older than him and you give him a pat on the back before telling him he did good but now he'd have to do that to Tezcatlipoca. The kid asks who that is, so you tell him that he's that guy's bigger, badder, uglier brother from space who's so mean that nobody wants to fight him because he's so big and strong and scary that even Mr. Sun (Mr. Golden Sun) is scared of him. The kid smiles: He's brave, defaultedly with the lionheart of a hero.

Unfortunately, dark gods of destruction aren't really scared of hearts, so you need to give him weapons. So you train him to fight like the only guy who's ever beaten Tezcatlipoca, Quetzalcoatl (AKA Mr. Q), channeling all of the power from Mr. Qs essence into a suit of armor designed both with sciencific and occultist principles in mind. It can draw, contain and harness fourth dimensional energy, primary that of Mr. Q himself, in order to facilitate functions like density control via lightning fast chemical reactions which can enable him to fly, achieve startling resilience, greatly exaggerate his physical strength and speed, or it can purge that energy in concentrated blasts of heat, plasma, electricity, or pure fourth dimensional energy (the most potent and fuel consuming option). His mask has a HUD that can toggle on and off, showing statistics about the suit itself, and can forgo the default display for a magical heat map like infrared vision, as well as a literal infrared functionality and basic communication assets with room for firmware and hardware updates.

The suits energy refills itself over time, though it can be recharged by acts of raw heroism (literally), being in proximity of a "magic user", absorbing energy from magically powered attacks/assists or metabolizing magically significant objects. Without any fourth dimensional energy in the suit, it's still a pretty sturdy & lightweight suit, but it gets really hot in there. When the power goes out, he still has a few simple tools like wire nets and can even produce tear gas and battons. Barring that, his combat training incorporates enough lessons in Muay Thai, Krav Maga and Judo to send the bullies packing.

Bio: A long time ago, Quetzalcoatl clashed against Tezcatlipoca in a battle whose stakes have been said to have been as simple as good fighting evil, and good triumphed, while Tezcatlipoca retreated. As a sign of favor towards his loyal followers, Quetzalcoatl allowed humans to borrow his strength to overpower the foul Tezcatlipoca whenever the dark god would return. So, in each generation, the followers of Quetzalcoatl would train a champion to house Q's power, outfitting them with cutting edge weaponry to match the hero's insides.

This generation it belongs to Curtis Falconer, a young medical student and child prodigy who resides in Vanity City who was privately schooled by the society with hopes of basically making him better than everyone else. Lots of reading assignments, squats, combat and technical training followed within the confines of a fenced off former bakery. His father had been the previous champion, but his death had always been explained as a curse inflicted by a servant of Tezcatlipoca.

Compelled by the tremendous amount of badness surrounding him, Curt decided to apply his power to stopping a supervillain by the name of The Piper, whose pipe bombs were evidently better made than the armor of Vanity's foremost vigilante, Bloodtype. Having failed to save Bloodtype, Curt felt it was only natural that he become a superhero proper. However, he found it challenging to know which battles to pick in the world, wondering when it was time to fight villains and when it was time to heal the sick. Around this time, the Q Society decided that he was unsuitable as a champion of Quetzalcoatl because of his new personal ambitions, but were simply unable to take the suit from him by any means thus far.

Not having heard from the Q Society for some time, he turned his attention to supervillains and gangsters, like Bloodtype's former sidekick gone psychopath Death-Doll. After having busted up a crew of Joker copycats and acolytes, he was contacted by Nightwing with the opportunity to receive intensive and personalized training and a place within the injured superhero community alongside fellow teenaged titans.

Avengers: Heroes United!

So how many posts do we need tonight to resolve Jamaica before losing six stability points?

Inkarnate, Jones, and myself all have posts where we saddle up. I imagine those don't count towards mitigating damage or our goal of 6 posts. Jones has two posts of attacking the base and working on a plan to move forward and I have one. I imagine that counts as three because determining how we will secure the safehouse is a step towards saving the world. So that means that Kingston is saved if each of us post again once tonight, right?

Also, do I get to make up what Coulson tells Daredevil and does it matter what I say is inside/outside any given safehouse, or do I need to wait for a GM post for those?

Edit: The Bostonians are just SOL.

Avengers: Heroes United!

Speaks with an accent. Your example of a mastermind was Loki, so I figured the Mastermind wouldn't be obscure. The fact that the attacks aren't American implies a sort of global awareness. The attack on the SHIELD safehouse for weapons makes me think of a military leader. Doctor Doom wouldn't need somebody else's supertech. So I figure Red Skull or Baron Zemo, but Skull's more prominent, so I guessed him.

Avengers: Heroes United!

But yeah, the Red Skull is the Mastermind, right?

Avengers: Heroes United!

This is a call to arms to all the players
To cut through the skull's evil onion of layers.
We've gotta answer the cries in Boston and Kingston
& make those villains question what they were thinking
When they tried to plunge the world into crisis
With their superpowers and death dealing devices.
We're sending their blueprints and designs to the blender!
They won't stand a chance when we assemble the Avengers!

Avengers: Heroes United!

Kingston, Jamaica
About Three Seconds Later

"Right behind ya', Captain!"

That hover bike is quick, alright. It's got enough giddyup to cross the ocean in only a few minutes. Given that he had crossed the sound barrier many times over, Murdock would've been flying entirely blind if it weren't for the onboard navigation systems that so helpfully volunteered to take him to the most dangerous locations in the world without half an hour of extraneous legal drivel. Onstar could learn a thing or two from SHIELD. But seemingly all at once, the noble machine drops it's anchor into the atmosphere and cools off to a comfortable 200 mph, cruising speed, and cheerfully tells Matt "You have arrived!"

The cockpits soundproof shell recedes into it's sheath before the warm ambient hum of the engine drowns in a din of gunfire and quantum entangled syllables. Matt cocks his head back and clicks his tongue off the roof of his mouth, like he's trying to loosen up some peanut butter. The soundwaves give a nice, clean picture of the surrounding area as the bike rolls at the decrepit pace of 40 mph. The safehouse was up ahead, only a football field's length away, with about two armored vans in positions ideally situated to take a real shot at him.

So Matt took a shot first, pouncing off of the hover bike and letting it fly at moderate acceleration towards the leftward threat. He covers his ears as the flying bike rolls the entire back half of the van into a harmless knot of reinforced metal panels and break lines. The minigunner backed off when his bucking weapon's foundation snapped in half. "Try firing that without breaking your wrist, I dare you!"

"Die! you self-sanctified dinosaur!" A reinforcement who was evidently taking it easy in the passenger seat barks out.

_PWOP!

If Skrillex were to sample the purring of a popcorn machine and work it into a bass drop, it would sound exactly like the weapon being fired in Matt's direction. The spot on the ground where the shot landed wasn't scorched or covered in any sort of residue, it looked fluffy and wet like merengue. Whatever that weapon was, it could scramble the molecules of it's target with the air around it. Perfect for omelettes, but good enough to take out a superhero in a pinch.

"I hate superheroes: all of you!" the criminal shouts as he aims to take another shot, hastily lining his sight up with the interlocking double-Ds.

At this point, the sonuvabitch on top of the other van finally finds the power to break off from his Facebook feed long enough to start shooting at the guy who just destroyed the van identical to their own. A couple of clicks and a couple of clacks came too little too late: Daredevil had dispatched the one with the fancy gun and smashed the driver's face into the windshield before throwing them both out of the van and into the dirty sand. Having just completely disabled the vehicles ability to be driven, you'd've thought it'd look silly to see the scarlet swashbuckler crawling around in there, until you saw him rip the four way tire iron out from under the seat and throw it your direction!

_SHNAKH!

The minigunner atop the far van succumed to the concussion inflicted by feeling his weapon pivot and snap against his forehead, the metal restraints that held it steady were in shambles and it's accuracy was melted to slag. By the time the driver had processed what had just happened, Daredevil was out of the car and on the ground, dashing and working his damn hardest to put a mile gap between that driver and his consciousness.

Kabam! Pow! Smack! The driver was pacified. If Matt Murdock had been a boxer like his old man, there's no way it would've taken more than a split second to break that nose Rocky Balboa was always braggin' about.

"Daredevil speaking: two more entrances clear. No way we're getting pinned down. I'm en route to your position!" At that, The Man Without Fear puts the pedal to the metal and cut the distance like butter. The boy in blue swells like a balloon on his radar sense as DD zeroes in on his fellow Avenger and Agent Woo. As Daredevil slides out of the driver's seat, the previous driver spills out of the open door, landing like a sack of potatoes, onto the ground.

Face to face, Daredevil spits a warning: "Careful, they've got really special guns", cracking the door, kicking it open and preemptively readying a billy club for a toss!