HenryJonesJr

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Yea, I’d have to see the concept, but as long as it’s a strong one I don’t see a problem

The Absolute Comics Universe Wants You!

Bumping this! Superman! Batman! Iron Man! Captain America! Thor! All and more available for the right writer!

The Absolute Comics Universe Wants You!

Bumping this! Superman! Batman! Iron Man! Captain America! Thor! All and more available for the right writer!

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

"Cowabunga!" Michelangelo's voice bounced off the sewer pipes as he sped though the sewers of New York City. The teenage turtle couldn't help but smile as he sped through the concrete tubs and soared over chasms where they dove down towards the deeper bowls of the city. Every so often he would pass a moving train car or get a glimpse of the city above him, which would light up his imagination with a thousand possibilities.

Mikey loved humans. Well, he technically didn't know any humans, but he loved the idea of them. He watched them on TV. He watched them from sewer grates. He marveled at how many of them there were, and how different they all were. He wanted to meet them. He wanted to be friends with them. He wanted a real life.

Of course, he also knew they could be dangerous.

He still had nightmares about the night his sister was taken. The night the van sped up next to his family as the scrounged for food and scraps in the city. The men inside tried to take all of them, but Father had managed to fight them off. But he wasn't fast enough to save Artie. The scene plays out in his head nearly every night. He missed his twin more than anything in the world. The two of them were the youngest of the family, and were the only two that were related by blood.

Of course, the departure of their adopted sister had hit him hard as well. Leo and Raph had been butting heads more and more lately. Donnie seemed more closed off than ever.

Mikey just wanted his family back.

He sighed as he reached their lair, pulled the false pipe by the otherwise unseen door, which then swung open, revealing the cavernous chamber on the other side. Old, dark, wooden walls lined the main room of their home. Donnie theorized it had once been the hideout of bootleggers during the age of prohibition, and that hypothesis definitely fit. The main room was like an ornate meeting room, full of old books and furniture. Above them, a system of mirrors reflected light all the way from the river down into their home. The turtles had made it their own, of course. Donnie updated the electronics, and TVs and video game consoles were now interspersed with the turn of the century woodwork.

The lair had been boxed in by construction, and it was more than likely no one knew it was there. The walls around it were thick. There was always a chance that humans would find them, but Donnie was doing his best to make sure that wouldn't happen.

Branching rooms came off the main chamber, featuring bathrooms, the boys' bedrooms, a full kitchen, a dojo, and their father's room. There was even a big space that was blocked off by a cave in, which Donnie and Raph used as a workshop.

"Anyone home?" Mike called out, receiving no response.

He shrugged and plopped down on the old, Victorian couch before turning on the old Super Nintendo they had managed to salvage. If no one wanted to hang out, he was at the very least going to beat Link to the Past.

**********

The sound of fists hitting a heavy bag echoed dully through the dojo, as the lone figure struck the training tool over and over again.

His hands were taped up from above the wrist all the way down to his knuckles, but the repeated punches still bruised and broke the green skin underneath the protection. He was in the training room too much. He knew it, Leo knew it, and Master Splinter definitely knew it. He wasn't even training. Not really, anyway. He was just in here taking out his frustrations.

He had too many frustrations.

He was mad that they barely ever left their home. He was angry that Master Splinter, after all these years, still would not tell them why they were training in the ninja arts. He was pissed off because Leo never asked the questions he needed to. He was frustrated that he wasn't allowed to do more to help the humans above.

But most of all his was furious that his father ignored the fact that their sister had been missing for the better part of a decade.

It was all getting to be too much.

His brothers shared some of his concerns. They were all better at hiding it, in different ways. Mikey pretended to be dumb, aloof, and a clown to mask the fact that he's torn up about Artie to this day. Don threw himself into his tinkering and reading to mask the fact that he's uncomfortable with all the combat Splinter seemed to be preparing them for. Leo focused on a mission he doesn't know the goal of in order to pretend that he had a purpose. They were all broken in some way.

How could they not be. They were mutant turtles gifted human intelligence and amazing abilities by a random accident. They were bound to be fucked up in the head.

"You are troubled, Raphael."

The soft, almost melodic, tone of Splinter's voice carried over the relative silence of the dojo. It was a sound none of the turtles had heard in days. Ever since the terrorist attack above, Splinter had been alone in his room meditating. Over what, they didn't know, but here he was.

Raphael turned to see the tall, slender, human-like rat standing in the door, leaning on the cane he always had with him. These days, his dark, chestnut-brown fur was tinged with more and more grey. He may not have been as fast as he once was, but he was still wise beyond his station.

He made his way to the center of the room, and sat cross-legged before motioning for Raphael to join him.

As the young turtle did so, he asked, "Master, it's been a while."

The rat sighed, and the fur around his mouth ruffled, "There was much to think on, my son. Too much. For too long I have kept our family here. For too long I have believed we were safe. That we could be happy cut off from the outside world whenever possible. I believed I was training you, but for what I was never sure. Until I remembered."

Splinter trailed off, staring into the dark corner of the dojo. Raphael, on the other hand, had a chill run through him. He had never heard Splinter talk as he was. It was almost as if he was scared. Even when they lost Artemisia, he kept his calm about him.

"Master?" Raph asked with a quiver in his voice.

His father looked down, his warm, brown eyes meeting his adopted son's. He smiled, "I'm sorry, my son. It is time for us to have an increased presence on the surface. We have hid for too long, and I fear it may have allowed our enemies a foothold we could have prevented. Now we must ensure they do not get more."

"Enemies, father?" Raphael asked, almost with an intense hunger. He had been training for so long. It was time to show what he could do.

"I will explain later when Leonardo returns," his father smiled calmly. "He is visiting your sister in her new home."

"Alopex," Raphael said, his eyes narrowing.

**********

The clicking of keys going up and down echoed through Donatello's room as he idly surfed the internet. Everything that came across his screen sent him slumping deeper and deeper into his chair. The humans were fighting. The humans were killing each other. The humans were polluting. The humans were persecuting some of their own kind.

The world they had been born into was dangerous and deadly, and all Donnie wanted to do was help them. Yet he was stuck below the surface, unable to really use his scientific knowledge in any meaningful way. The internet helped. He could reach out, but he was only so believable over the internet and not in person.

His father believed they would help protect the world from some unknown threat. They were training in combat by the time they were able to walk. He drilled them nearly every day. They were masters of hand-to-hand combat, or very nearly at that level.

Don hated it with all his heart.

He didn't want to fight. There was enough violence in the world. He had better ways of helping, yet all Splinter wanted to do was hone his fighting ability. He was tired of it.

"Donatello," the voice of his father came from behind him. "When Leonardo returns, we will meet in the dojo. There is much to discuss."

"Understood, father," he responded, more coldly than he intended. But his father knew of his frustrations.

**********

He watched from the shadows of an alley as the cars stream down the street like an endless stream. At least, what he saw from streams on TV. He had never seen one in real life. If he spent the rest of his life in the city, he probably never would see one. That was an odd thought. Spending his entire life in this humongous, sprawling organism of concrete and steel. It didn't feel right, deep down. He was an animal, after all. Or at least he was. He still wasn't sure what he was.

Still, staying here forever, never getting out, seemed weird.

New York was his home, and up until that part of his life, it was his entire world. He rarely saw the surface, as Master Splinter decreed it off limits outside of the times they needed to scavenge.

As the torrent of traffic continued to flow, he looked to the sky. There the moon shone big, bright, and red above the city like a spotlight. The blood-red color made the face in the moon turn from a benign old man to a wicked, sneering demon ready to devour the world it watched over.

Some said the red moon was an omen, a sign of the ends times. He wasn't sure about that, but he had felt that . So maybe people weren't all that far off the mark.

The cars stopped, and he peaked his head out of the alley to make sure no more were on their way, and that the street was clear of pedestrians. When he was sure he was alone, he dashed across the street with surprising speed. On the other side, he kicked off the sidewalk and sailed over a fence, landing on the other side in a junkyard.

He had been here many times before to visit his sister. She had been living here for the better part of a year under the watch and care of her new family. Thinking about it still brought a bitter taste to his mouth, but if she was happy and safe, he couldn't be too mad. She'd come back to them when she was ready. He was sure of that.

What he wasn't sure of, totally, was her new protector. Hob was a mean son of a bitch, and his motives had never really been clear. But he kept Al safe, so he was tolerated.

He weaved his way through the rows of garbage, following the path he knew by heart at this point. The mountains of junk were something to awe at. Him and his brothers often sifted through it, looking for anything they could use in their home. It was a treasure trove, and they were thankful for it.

It was an odd space in modern New York. Something left of a bygone era, somehow untouched by the city's changing face.

Before long, he came across his destination. Rising up in the middle of the junkyard, hidden from everything around it, was a sprawling shack. Built out of pallets, plywood, and corrugated steel, it stood like something out of the Mad Max movies he watched with his brothers. While they lived underground, this is where his sister now resided.

He approached, and before he reached the front door, a squawk rang out in the night above him. He looked up to find Pete, a large, anthropomorphic pigeon perched on the roof, "Hi! I'm Pete!"

"Holy shit you can talk now?!" the interloper asked with surprise.

"Hi! I'm Pete!" the pigeon replied.

"Okay...," the other one look at him sideways. "I'm gonna go inside."

"Hi! I'm Pete!"

"Okay, pal," he chuckled. "You stay Pete."

The door to the shack, an old door to a shipping container, creaked loudly as it swung open. The warm, orange light poured out into the rubbish. As he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, he heard Pigeon Pete call out that he was, indeed, still Pete.

The door slammed shut, and an old, upside down dumpster popped off the ground. From the opening came a tangle of red, armored limbs, before a face with stalk eyes and crustacean features.

"Ah! Private Leonardo!" the huge hermit crab Herman snapped a quick salute. "Good to see you, soldier."

Soldier. That's what Hob saw his family as. Soldiers in the inevitable war between mutants and humans. None of the mutants knew where they came from, really. Hob thought their "births" were providence. He thought they were destined to come about. That they were part of a new, natural order of things. He also assumed that meant a clash between their kind and the humans. Leonardo was young, but he was a solid strategist. He knew of about ten mutants in New York. Even if there were five times as many, there were millions of humans to every mutant. That wasn't going to end in a victory for Hob.

Plus, Leo had no desire to fight the humans. They were flawed, sure. Many lacked the honor he valued so much. But they were good, deep down. That much he was certain of. Even if they didn't always show it, there was good in them.

"I'm not a soldier, Herm," He rolled his eyes at the crustacean. "Just Leonardo."

"Whatever you say, Private," Herman responded. "The time will come when you see your mistake!"

Moving further into the hovel, Leonardo came across the kitchen, where he found Old Hob, the leader of this band of mutants, as well as Alopex, his estranged sister, sitting at the table. When he entered, Hob turned to face him with his good eye, the other hidden behind a patch. The old alley cat had lost the eye before his mutation. He snarled at the turtle, bearing his sharp teeth, and ruffling his greying orange fur, "Turtle."

"Hob," Leo nodded. The turtle never understood why Hob hated the humans so much. Maybe it was from his time before the mutation, when he was living on the street. But whatever the reason, it was intense. "My sister said she wanted to talk to me. Mind if we do that alone?"

"She ain't your sister no more," he growled and stood. He stood a head taller than Leonardo, but while the turtle and his brothers were built short and powerful, Hob was tall and lithe. His muscles constantly tensed, as if he would strike at any moment. Leonardo always felt uncomfortable around the cat. "She's a member of the Mutanimal Liberation Army. She has a purpose now. A real purpose."

"Whatever, Hob," Leo grunted. "Just let me talk to her."

"Or what?" he smiled meanly.

"Back off, Hob," Alopex finally spoke up. "I told you he was coming. You said it was fine."

The arctic fox's white fur waved as she moved between the two mutants. She was as tall as Hob, but looked bigger, mostly because of the puffed out fur. She was the quickest fighter Leo had ever encountered. She may not have been as strong as him and his brothers, but she could hold her own with her speed.

Hob mumbled something before leaving.

Once he was gone from the room, the two mutants took a seat at the table. Alopex looked down before meeting Leo's eyes, "He's right, you know. I'm not your sister."

"Oh come on, Al," Leo rolled his eyes. "Not this nonsense again. Of course you are."

Her face turned angry, her sharp teeth showing, "No, I was just a fill in for your real one. A replacement for Splinter to try and make amends for his failings. Nothing more."

Leo's eyes narrowed, "You can tell yourself that all you want. But deep down you know it's not true. We miss you. We want you to come home. You don't have to believe me, but it's the truth."

She shook her head before changing the subject, "Whatever. That's not why I told you to come."

Alopex shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she continued, "I was scouting the city the other night for Hob. We're trying to track gangs, the mob, and other criminal organizations. With the Kingpin dead, the city is like a tinderbox about to blow. Well, last night I came across a group of ninja wiping out a street gang in the Bronx."

That got Leonardo's attention, "Ninja? Your sure?"

"Yea," she nodded. "A large group of them. Garbed in red. Lets of red, not even counting the blood."

Leo took the information in. A group of ninjas in New York City was about the last thing he ever expected to see. Could this be why Master Splinter was hold up alone? Had he figured this out already?

"I also ended up fighting one of them," Al admitted next, reaching into a band on the floor and tossing Leo a mask. "I took that off of him. I wasn't paying attention and he got the jump on me. Probably a lookout. Didn't stick around to see if there were any more. Whoever these guys are, Leo, they're smart. They're talented, and they're recruiting for something big."

"Yea...we'll look into it," Leo nodded and looked down at the mask, running his finger over the emblem on the forehead.

It was nothing more than a black hand.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

One week until a bunch of people are culled from the roster...if anyone cares :(

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

I think it's evident, but I think one season was all the Flash I had in me this time.
As much as I love Eobard, I just cannot string together a storyline for a season 2. I'm out too.

But, as soon as I figure out a plot, I'm taking that lightning bolt back.

@Hillan

*sigh*

Okay.

In other news, first TMNT post will be up tonight. Also gonna start formulating plans for some events.

Who wants to get weird with this ish?

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

I hate doing this, I thought my boner for this was back, but apparently I just can't get myself down to write without forcing it.

Consider me gone, and I'll stay out of it for good this time. I mean, honestly I have ideas I have concepts I love and I wanna do but without the will to write its unfair to go back and forth for all of you guys.

@Sep

You make me sad

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

T E E N A G E M U T A N T
N I N J A T U R T L E S

---

^{_{L E O N A R D O ♦ R A P H A E L
M I C H E L A N G E L O ♦ D O N A T E L L O
S H I N O B I ♦ N E W Y O R K ♦ H A M A T O C L A N}}

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

---

^{"We strike hard and fade into the night."}

One deep, dark night in Japan, hundreds of years ago, a fearful warrior known as Oroku Saki was defeated. His dream of a shadow empire in Japan, controlled by his Foot Clan behind a puppet regime, was smashed by the emergence of the Tokugawa shogunate. But Saki, known as the Shuredda, was shrewd. He had plans should his plans fail. He disappeared from the world, while the Foot found a new place in the world, where it waited for the perfect time to reemerge.

On another night fifteen years ago in a rainy, busy New York City, a canister of chemicals labelled "TCRI" fell from a truck and shattered on the street. The oozing, glowing liquid inside washed down a sewer grate and into the sewers below. When it did, it came into contact with a rat and five baby turtles. The ooze coated them, and as it did, it began to rewrite their genetic code. It gave them human-like forms and intelligence. The rat, known as Splinter, being much older than the turtles, took on his role as their adoptive father. He named them from a book he found on famous painters. Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Artemisia were his world. The rat had memories of his life before the mutation, even if they were faint. From these memories, he trained his children in the ways of ninjutsu, in preparation for a threat he did not recall.

Five years later, the small, weird family was above ground, in the city, scavenging for food. While they did so, a van full of men abducted Artemisia, and attempted to take the rest of the turtles as well. Splinter and the boys were able to fight them off, but not before they got away with Artie. While the family was heartbroken, they did eventually take in a mutated arctic fox named Alopex, who had no idea of her origin.

Eventually, more mutants in the city were located, led by alley cat Old Hob. This group, who called themselves the Mutanimal Liberation Army, was dedicated to protecting mutants from humans. Alopex, swayed by their cause and feeling like an outsider in the family, joined with the Mutanimals.

Now, the Turtles and New York were about to face their greatest threat. After the surface world was thrown into chaos by the Purifiers, the Turtles would emerge once more. They would have to fight like they never had before in order to survive...and save the world!

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

---

I mean, I *always* want to play the TMNT. But basically we seem to (hopefully) have a stable game going, and I want to try it again. I've always wanted to tell the story in a One Universe game, have them interacting with Batman, Spider-Man, etc. I want to tell the definitive Turtles story, melding different parts of their different iterations.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

---

Supporting Characters:

• Hamato Clan
  
  
  
  • Splinter
  • April O'Neil
  • Casey Jones
• The Foot Clan
  
  • Oroku Saki, The Shredder
  • Tatsu
  • Oroku Pimiko
  • Oroku Karai
• The Purple Dragons
  
  • Arnold "Attila" Jones
  • Max Steranko
  • Geanaldo Anton
• Mutanimal Liberation Army
  
  • Old Hob
  • Alopex
  • Herman the Hermit Crab
  • Pigeon Pete
• TCRI
  
  • Doctor Jordan Perry
  • Doctor Baxter Stockman

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

The sound of fists hitting a heavy bag echoed dully through the dojo, as the lone figure struck the training tool over and over again.

His hands were taped up from above the wrist all the way down to his knuckles, but the repeated punches still bruised and broke the green skin underneath the protection. He was in the training room too much. He knew it, Leo knew it, and Master Splinter definitely knew it. He wasn't even training. Not really, anyway. He was just in here taking out his frustrations.

He had too many frustrations.

He was mad that they barely ever left their home. He was angry that Master Splinter, after all these years, still would not tell them why they were training in the ninja arts. He was pissed off because Leo never asked the questions he needed to. He was frustrated that he wasn't allowed to do more to help the surface world above.

But most of all his was furious that his father ignored the fact that their sister had been missing for the better part of a decade.

It was all getting to be too much.

His brothers shared some of his concerns. They were all better at hiding it, in different ways. Mikey pretended to be dumb, aloof, and a clown to mask the fact that he's torn up about Artie to this day. Don threw himself into his tinkering and reading to mask the fact that he's uncomfortable with all the combat Splinter seemed to be preparing them for. Leo focused on a mission he doesn't know the goal of in order to pretend that he had a purpose. They were all broken in some way.

How could they not be. They were mutant turtles gifted human intelligence and amazing abilities by a random accident. They were bound to be messed up in the head.

"You are troubled, Raphael."

The soft, almost melodic, tone of Splinter's voice carried over the relative silence of the dojo. It was a sound none of the turtles had heard in days. Ever since the attack on the surface world and the hijacked TV broadcast, Splinter had been alone in his room meditating. Over what, they didn't know, but here he was.

Raphael turned to see the tall, slender, human-like rat standing in the door, leaning on the cane he always had with him. These days, his dark, chestnut-brown fur was tinged with more and more grey. He may not have been as fast as he once was, but he was still wise beyond his station.

He made his way to the center of the room, and sat cross-legged before motioning for Raphael to join him.

As the young turtle did so, he asked, "Master, it's been a while."

The rat sighed, and the fur around his mouth ruffled, "There was much to think on, my son. Too much. For too long I have kept our family here. For too long I have believed we were safe. That we could be happy cut off from the outside world whenever possible. I believed I was training you, but for what I was never sure. Until I remembered."

Splinter trailed off, staring into the dark corner of the dojo. Raphael, on the other hand, had a chill run through him. He had never heard Splinter talk as he was. It was almost as if he was scared. Even when they lost Artemisia, he kept his calm about him.

"Master?" Raph asked with a quiver in his voice.

His father looked down, his warm, brown eyes meeting his adopted son's. He smiled, "I'm sorry, my son. It is time for us to have an increased presence on the surface. We have hid for too long, and I fear it may have allowed our enemies a foothold we could have prevented. Now we must ensure they do not get more."

"Enemies, father?" Raphael asked, almost with an intense hunger. He had been training for so long. It was time to show what he could do.

"I will explain later when Leonardo returns," his father smiled calmly. "He is visiting your sister in her new home."

"Alopex," Raphael said, his eyes narrowing.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

THE GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY

IN

BALLROOM BLITZ

---

The blasts continued to pepper the side of Despero's flagship, sending tremors through the interior. The shaking allowed Thor to keep one step ahead of the Destroyer as it attempted to crush his bones into dust. The Destroyer was bigger and stronger than he was, but the Asgardian was fast and more sure footed in the current conditions. Still, the hulking mass of metal was able to get in a few shots, and Thor was beginning to tire. There was a reason his father had created this horrible weapon, and it was becoming clearer by the moment.

Depsero, on the other hand, seemed distracted by the attack. That may have been the only reason Thor was still alive, if he was being honest with himself. For that he was thankful for his friends. Thor now understood why Despero wanted to separate Thor and the Guardians. It had nothing to do with sparing mortals. He just did not believe he could defeat all of them.

Good. All he had to do was survive until his friends came to help him.

The Destroyer barely missed with a devastating downward blow, and Thor managed to sever both arms as they were stuck in the steel of the ship's floor. They would reconnect shortly, but at least it allowed him to put some distance between him and the weapon.

Not wasting any time, he took off towards Despero, hoping to get a few licks in before his magical lapdog could protect him once again.

"Despero, time to die!" the Thunderer yelled as he rushed at the villain. Before he could reach the red alien, however, he was shoved by an invisible force. Despero had raised his hand, and his third eye on his forehead had begun to glow. With a flick of his wrist, Despero showed his full power and sent the Asgardian shooting across the throne chamber.

"I think not, Asgardian," the red alien chuckled slightly. "Again, you underestimate the ability of mortals. You think I am helpless without my weapon. But I am a match for you, Thor."

"It is not I that underestimates mortals, Depsero," Thor wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. He was hurting. That much was obvious. But he needed to continue to stall until the others could make it to him. "Nay, no more will I fail to see the worth in the short lives that burn hotter than any sun. No, it is you who failed to see the worth in the bonds between those mortals. The very bond that has brought you under attack as I speak these words."

By this time, The Destroyer had regained its advantage and drove its knee into Thor, knocking him down. As his vision started to blur, he scrambled away from strike after strike from the Destroyer.

Then the alarms started to go off in the ship.

---

The sounds of happiness coming out of Rocket as the Hasselhoff tore through the Chitauri fighters that buzzed around them like a squadron of stinging insects. Quill had heard many guttural battle cries over his years with the Ravagers, but a raccoon yelling as he mowed down ship after ship was something the man who called himself Star-Lord would never forget. It was almost keeping him from piloting the ship correctly if he was being honest.

"Don't shoot any of the Ravager ships you maniac!" Quill half-yelled, half-laughed at the little creature manning the guns.

Luckily they weren't alone in this assault.

"Would someone shut that rat up!?" Yondu Udonta's gravely voice came over the comms as his massive Ravager cruiser, the Constellation, overtook the smaller Hasselhoff. The bigger ship looked like a mix between a trash truck and an asteroid, but Quill knew it packed a punch. As if on cue, the main, circular canon on the front of the ship fired. The single, uninterrupted, red beam slammed into the side of the main ship in the enemy fleet. The old mining laser that Yondu had installed to punch into the holds of cargo ships did its job, punching through the hull of the capital ship in short order. "Quill, you're set. Remember our deal!"

"Yea, yea," Star-Lord waved his hand even though he knew the blue alien couldn't see him. "You get whatever tech you can salvage from the ships."

"Including that superweapon, boy," Yondu reminded Quill about the Destroyer. "That's gonna fetch one hell of a price on the black market."

Quill killed the comms to the Ravager ships as he made his way towards the hole that was now their way into the ship. He looked over his shoulder as he did, finding Hawk's disapproving glare meeting him, "What?"

"You're giving a magical god-weapon to a space pirate," she responded dryly.

"No I'm not," he rolled his eyes. "Thor's just gonna destroy the...Destroyer. Yondu will never come close to it."

"Oh so we're gonna have another price on our heads?" Rocket asked in between gunning down fighters that had moved in to try and block their way to their destination. "Thanks Quill."

"I am Groot," the tree added in from his seat.

"Yea well we needed help or we'd all be space dust at this point," Quill grumbled. "Can we fight about this after we kill the God-murdering alien general?"

"Sounds fair," Rocket shrugged.

"Coming up alongside, Peter Quill," the deep, powerful voice of Heimdall alerted the maneuver. Quill looked up to see the yacht that had been stolen from Warworld at the same time as the Hasselhoff. "Let us avenge our fallen people together."

"You take care of disabling the ship, we'll find Thor," Hawk assured the Asgardian.

The two ships passed into the enemy capital ship, where they found themselves in the hangar. Rocket didn't take any chances. He opened fire on the fighters that were still docked. Since the air had been sucked out of the hold, the ships merely disintergrated, their pieces floating in the lack of gravity. The attacking ships set down, and the Guardians stepped out in their space gear.

On the other hand, the Asgardians stepped out of their craft in gleaming gold and silver armor, each one more ornate than the last. They wielded swords that gleamed in the starlight, and it was one of the most beautiful things any of the Guardians had ever seen.

"Is it weird that I'm turned on right now?" Quill asked.

"No," Hawk answered.

"Good hunting, Guardians," Heimdall nodded to them as he turned to head towards the bridge. As the airlock opened as they approached, he yelled out, "For Asgard!"

The Asgardian warriors poured into the ship, fanning out and cutting through all that stood in their way. The sight of a battalion of gods fighting the creatures that had killed most of their kind was a sight to behold. It wasn't ferocious or haphazard. They all seemed to know where the other was and how they were moving. It was more of a dance than a battle. When they came to a junction, the Asgardians went one way and the Guardians another.

Hawk led the way, swooping into columns of Chitauri and Brood, smashing away with her Nth metal mace. This was where the Thanagarian was at home. Not in a skirmish, but in a proper battle. The other three Guardians picked off any stragglers that needed taking care of, but she plowed their way to Despero's inner sanctum.

When they broke through the door, they found Thor suspended above a throne, a hologram of the galaxy swirling around him. In the throne, the tired, red form of Despero looked at them smiling with needle-like teeth. He merely muttered, "Kill them."

With frightening speed, a mammoth figure to Quill's left rushed at them, scattering the Guardians. Groot was the first to step to the black, armored figure. He wrapped the being in vines of wood and leaves, attempting to allow Hawk to swoop in for a head shot. Instead, the Destroyer burst from its wooden cage, shattering it so hard that Groot's very arms splintered and cracked, sending the living tree stumbling backwards. Meanwhile, Hawk was spiked out of the air into him. Rocket ran at the weapon, firing with his pistols, their projectiles bouncing off harmlessly. The Destroyer reared up to smack the little creature into oblivion, but Quill managed to snatch up his friend just in the nick of time with help from his rocket boots. Unfortunately the Destroyer grabbed Quill by the feet, crushing the boots and tossing the two of them on top of Hawk and Groot.

"Hm," Despero mused. "I expected more. Well? Finish it."

---

As the Destroyer's head began to open up, revealing the glowing, crackling energy within, Thor struggled as strongly as he could against the grip of Despero's mental vice. The powers gifted to the being by the Eternal Flame was incredible. Thor thought it may have been a divine trick by the flame to teach the Asgardians the folly of their past ways.

Whatever the reason for Despero's for power, now was not the time to wonder about it. He reached, clawed, and strained against the psychic bonds that clasped against his arms and legs. There was no use, but he continued to fight. He was not going to sit by helplessly as his friends were vaporized by the weapon of his father.

"After the Destroyer steels their essence," Despero laughed as the idea came to him, "I'm going to have it kill you with them. Yes, I think that's an acceptable punishment for all of you."

Thor thrashed against the invisible bonds, managing to move violently, but still unable to escape. Despero looked up at him with the same, smug smile from earlier. The sound of the Destroyer powering up for the final stroke was hall he could hear as he screamed internally .

No. That was a lie. There was something else he could hear. A low, drumming hum that seemed to be getting closer and closer. As the sound continued to increase, Thor realized what it was. But it was impossible Nothing more than a figment of his desperate mind.

At least that's what he believed until the wall of the chamber shattered like glass. A small, speeding projectile flew low through the room and smashed through the Destroyer's chest, exploding the metal outward and discharging the energy into the ceiling of the atrium, causing even more of the chamber to come raining down around them.

The hammer found Thor's hand, and the energy that surged through him was something he never thought he would feel again. Mjolnir had returned to him in the moment he needed the hammer most. Lightning exploded from the heavy metal head of the hammer, striking Despero and releasing Thor from his hold.

He fell towards the floor, and landed in a crouch, the head of Mjolnir hitting the floor with a dull thud. Electricity crackled around the God of Thunder as his Asgardian armor and vestments appeared on him as if from thin air. His eyes shone white with power, and his cape fluttered behind him, animated by the energy.

Despero attempted to reach toward him once more, but Thor spun and fired a bolt of electricity at the alien's third eye. It struck home, blinding the would-be despot's power source. In agony, the alien yelled at the Destroyer, "Kill him!"

As the living armor turned to Thor, Despero ran. The Destroyer fired a beam of energy at Thor, who managed to bat it away with the mighty hammer of Asgard. The weapon of his enemy was charging up again, and Thor turned to his friends, "Get Despero! I'll take care of this!"

Another, steady beam came his way, and Thor spun Mjolnir so fast that it became an impenetrable shield. The energy was scattered in a starburst as Thor made his way closer and closer to the Destroyer. Once he was within range, he ducked out of the way below the energy, and came up with a devestating uppercut with Mjolnir. It shattered the the metal of the armor's head. It swung an arm clumsily at Thor, who brought the hammer down onto it, shattering it as well. He went to work systematically destroying the armor bit by bit. He took out all his frustrations, all his failures, on the Dwarven creation. The metal split, splintered, and shattered like glass against the might of Mjolnir and his vengeance. None would ever be threatened by Asgard again, but he and his kind would make up for their failures.

When there was nothing left of the Destroyer, he rose and headed towards where Despero had fled from the Guardians of the Galaxy. As he walked, he found the corridors of the ship were chaos. The Brood and Chitauri, without their new master, were slaughtering each other indiscriminately. Blood and viscera flew as the creatures were at one anothers' throats, and Thor beat back any that came close enough to he and Mjolnir.

He found the rest of the Guardians standing in front of a destroyed escape pod, Despero bound by Groot's strong limbs.

"Took you long enough," Rocket grunted.

"Sorry, had to destroy a suit of enchanted armor," Thor smiled weakly. "You understand."

"I hate it when that happens," Hawk responded with a sigh.

"Fools! You're all fools!" Despero sneered.

"I keep telling you, dick weasel, it's 'The Guardians of the Galaxy'. Get it right," Quill shot back. "You wanna kill him or should I?"

"Oh let me do it!" Rocket pleaded.

"Hehehehe," Despero laughed. "If I am going to die. You will all be joining me."

Before any of the Guardians could say anything the ship rocked violently. Then again. And again.

"Shit," Quill growled.

"Self destruct initiated," an electronic voice called.

"Run!" Thor called. Groot dropped the psychically blinded Despero as they fled. Thor looked over his shoulder to see the alien engulfed in the flame of an explosion.

The Guardians and the Asgardians made it back to the hangar in the nick of time. While the Hasselhoff had been crushed by the collapsing ship, the combined group got in the armored yacht and escaped. As they took off, the ship began to shake apart. Explosions ripped through the capital ship. Its final shudder led to it coming apart totally. In turn, the Chitauri motherships also exploded, ending Despero's fleet.

"Well, that was fun," Rocket rocked back and forth on his feet. "Who's hungry?"

"Not now dingus," Quill hissed.

"My friends," Thor turned to them, glancing down at Mjolnir for a second as he did. "You have helped me avenge my people. You have helped create a safe galaxy. For that, there will be songs sung in your honor for all eternity."

"Cool, can we get Kenny Loggins to sing it?" Quill perked up.

"Who?"

"You know! Fly in to the danger zone!" Quill stopped as everyone looked at him sideways. "Aw you're no fun."

"You have all also brought me back," Thor smiled. "You have taught me what it means to truly be a god. My purpose is to protect, not to fight and revel in the spoils of victory. And I hope...I hope we can do that together."

"If we do, I'm gonna revel in some spoils of victory," Hawk shrugged. "I just have to be honest."

"Oh yes, there's gonna be reveling," Quill nodded in agreement. "Can't live without the revels."

"I am Groot."

"Good question, pal," Rocket patted the tree's trunk-like legs. "What's next?"

"Yes, Odinson," Heimdall approached the prince of Asgard. "Your people are assembled. What remains of us. And we look to your guidance."

"I think a home will be needed," Thor pondered the question. "And I think I know just where we should go."

"Plot a course for Midgard."

Titans: A DC Comics Roleplay

Kaldur had fought many battles in his time with Aquaman, but never had he been present at the beginning of an alien invasion. It was a childish, selfish thought to have in a situation like this, but even he was known to be a kid now and again. He was here at ground zero of a new incursion, and he was going to be the one to stop it, whether these big, green monsters knew it or not. They were up against a son of Atlantis, and he was formidable indeed.

Unfortunately for the formidable son of Atlantis, the entire squad of extraterrestrials turned their weapons on him and fired. Kaldur'ahm was forced to dive behind a collapsed wall of concrete in order to survive. The laser blasts took chunks out of the wall, and he felt the pebbles bouncing off his arms and forehead as the wall was whittled down. He wouldn't be able to stay here for long, and needed a plan about as much as a whale needed a breath after being submerged for too long.

He had the water he had picked up in the street further back, but without getting close to the creatures that wouldn't do much. He scanned the area for any possible advantage against his enemies. He saw it in the form of a street light that stood right above their position, but within his reach.

Summoning the water from inside the containers he wore on his back, Kaldur lashed out with the magically-hardened water. The liquid was thin as a razor by the time it reached the light pole, but that's all he needed. The magical skills he had learned from Queen Mera were enough, and the water sliced through the metal of the pole almost effortlessly. With a groan, the heavy metal column came crashing down towards the aliens, sending them scattering.

He took the opportunity to vault to his feet and rush the invaders, recollecting his water and forming it into two short swords in his hands. When he reached the aliens, the one closest was regaining his feet. Kaldur sliced through its weapon like butter before it could raise it up to fire. He followed that up with a kick to its gut, which sent it tumbling into two of its comrades.

The problem was the other two that had already swung their weapons around to face him. He turned the water in his hands to a shield, which deflected one of the shots, but that bolt itself weakened his spell. The second bolt shattered through the shield and struck him in the shoulder sending a lightning bolt of pain through his body. He dropped to his knees and could hear the creatures talking to one another.

Whatever they were saying could not be a good thing.