Hillan

MARVELS: Streets of New York

Post coming up tomorrow, school & work's been intense.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

W I N T E R C I V I L I A N

---

^{_{James Buchanan Barnes ♦ War Veteran ♦ Staten Island ♦ Retired Soldier/Assassin/Captain}}

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

---

^{"From one fight to the other. For ninety years. Every day is a battle"}

After 80 years of service, some willingly, most of it not so much - he left that life behind. SHIELD, and every other security organization in the world certainly weren't happy with that. He's on every security watchlist, but agencies knows better than to poke the winter soldier that sleeps. Leaving the spy-and-hero life behind wasn't easy. He had to say goodbye to a lot of people, a lot like the way a junkie has to cut ties with all of his user-peers, Bucky had to break off completely. He took that choice into his own bionic hand and, for the first time since he lied about his age to go fight in Germany - he felt like he had truly been the one at the wheel.

He's not a weapon, and he's not a spy. He's no longer the Winter Soldier, and he's certainly not Captain America. He's unfit for civilian life, yet knows he cannot engage himself in the hero community at large anymore. Too much blood on his hands, too many secrets in his head. He knows where too many bodies are buried and he's tired of digging graves. Instead, he's trying to apply the skills that his body has memorized to better his local community. Most days that looks a lot like burning a caserole for the Veterans meeting group, or helping the lady down the hall with her broken washing machine.

He can barely sleep at night, and he can't help but get involved in every bit of injustice that comes by his sight. To let go of old grudges. To forgive people in his past, and most of all, to try and forgive himself. James is a broken man who is trying to put the pieces back together.

Bucky is trying to be better.

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:

---

^{"It's been a very long time since I got to punch a nazi. Sadly, it's never long enough."}

I recently read the 2020 run of Falcon & The Winter Soldier. I also recently rewatched all of Burn Notice. Bucky in the context of this game is a mix of these two ideas. He is running from his past, believing himself to have 'done enough' as a hero. He's tired of politics, and he's certianly tired of being told what to do. I want to explore the parts of Bucky where he's the best. Where he's a malplaced regular guy trying to make his way in the most dense city on Earth. The TV-show from back in the olden' days is one of my favorite outings, simply because it spent some time on the very human elements of Bucky.

Bucky is going to balance staying out of trouble with his wish to help people around him. Using his skills and abilities in unconventional ways to aid those that seek his help. He spends his time volunteering at the VA, trying to cope with his regular therapist meetings, all while trying to restart his social life. All of this underpinned by the sneaking suspicion that one of these days, Bucky is gonna break bad and live up to some John Wick-esque behavior.

James Barnes offers a lot of character for his corner of NYC, a corner he himself cannot completely comprehend. He's a man out of time, in a world where he's haunted by all of the harm he's done. Torn between a desire for peace, and a character that's capable of dynamic hyper-violent superhero action all at once. He's a little knight rider, a little Burn Notice, a little Captain America. He's a man who is trying to become better.

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

---

^{"My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I used to be a spy."}

- Alpine: Bucky's best friend and housemate. Nine lives.
- Jacob Porter: Former NAVY-Seal, part of James' Veteran support group. Gives him odd-jobs that are 'extra-legal' when someone has a problem nobody else can solve.
- Michelle Valdez: Agent of SHIELD, SWORD and just about any other acronymed organisation. Used to be deep undercover for HYDRA until Zemo bit a bullet. She debriefed and now tries to handle Bucky.
- Lars 'Lenny' Ulfreds: Psychiatrist who James has weekly meetings with.

- Silvio Manfredi: and James are born the same year. James posession of the super soldier serum in his blood and his deaccelerated aging angers the head of the Manfredi family almost as much as his refusal to work for the Maggia as a hitman.
- The Maggia Syndicate: The organization lead by Silvermane at large are causing trouble in Bucky's neighborhood, and his many odd-jobs helping out the people around him will lead to trouble with the mob as a whole.
- Kingpin: Certainly upset over the time Bucky broke his leg.
- Hydra: Hail Hydra. They've been terminated. Zemo was killed. More heads are certain to sprout up. Someone is always gonna try to re-gain power over the Winter Soldier.
- The X:ers: Neo-Nazi group of hooligans on Bucky's block who are terrorizing his neighbors.

I am agnostic to James having been placed in the role as Captain America in the past or not. If nobody picks up Steve, I'll make a choice regarding it down the line. If someone does decide to play Mister Rogers, Sam or Walker, I've got no qualms going one direction or the other.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

_{MARVELS: Streets of New York Presents: B U C K Y}

ISSUE #0: ржавый, печь, рассвет

---

_{Staten Island ♦ New York City}

In his two-room apartment, Bucky sat crosslegged on the floor, trying to remember the medetation mantras Wong had taught him. Inner peace. Feel the garden of your soul bloom. Move your mind into your special place. Your center.

Problem is, whenever Bucky spends too much time in the peace and quiet, he finds himself remembering what it was like. Those short seconds as the nitrogen gas filled his chamber and his body cooled down. When the programming let go, and he got control again, only to get snuffed out. Seconds that felt like years. When he came to, he wanted to scream, yet his body never allowed him to.
He was screaming inside of his own head. Aware of what he was doing, incapable of stopping it. No power to do anything but exactly what he was told to do.

Each time he was activated, he heard those cursed words echo in his skull, louder than his own voice ever could. Like a spell they held him. Working him strings on a doll. He could shout himself hoarse, yet he would never overpower the might of those simple commands that ruled his entire life. He was bound. Defined by the chains that had been placed on him.

"Longing,"

He sees himself at 17. The day before he was shipped off to Germany. He had just chased away some of the guys who were picking on his best friend. Steve had treated him to a meal at the local fair on Staten Island as a thanks. Steve himself, in spite of his 5'2 frame and 70 pounds body had in turn stopped those same jerks from picking on an old man. Steve was physically weak. But he was the strongest man James knew. He looked up to him. He inspired him.

"rusted,"

"If you look up at someone, what way are they looking at you?"
His father used to say. Steve never once looked down on him, not after he got the serum, not after James stopped being known as 'Sergeant Barnes' and instead became 'Captain Americas' Bucky'. Steve still respected him, valued him. Saw him as a brother. Steve was an inspiration to the entire nation, to to the world. To James, Steve Rogers was finally seen the way he had always known his best friend. He lead James and the Howling Commandos during the war and they turned the tide.

"furnace,"

Steve made the ultimate sacrifice.

Bucky hears Steve scream, Steve's hand grabs Bucky's arm. Problem was that they both quickly realize that his arm is all Steve holds. James falls to his death after a surprise ambush from Hydra forces. Steve has to keep on fighting.

Steve saved the world. He stopped Hydra. He made sure there would be a tomorrow. Yet Steve wasn't there to save his friend from the fires worse than the seventh circle of hell, at least that's what Johnny Blaze had told him many years ago when he gazed into all of Bucky's past deeds. Bucky was turned into a weapon for evil men to enact evil deeds. He was used like a hot knife through butter, burning the world all around him.

He kept screaming when he was forced to take a life. A West-German diplomat. A police captain in Berlin. He was deployed to America. Hunting down certain actors who had fled from Europe.

He tried to scream, more than ever before when he was face to face with the man who made Steve Rogers. A man who's life Bucky's metal arm drained as his windpipe collapsed. He followed his orders, and without a seconds hesitation, he grabbed the gun from his back and fired six bullets into the horrified wife - a mother of one - of the now murdered man.

"daybreak"

When he gunned down four agents working for SHIELD, and when he murdered a king. Bucky was no longer screaming. He had lost his voice. His will to fight. He had utterly surrendered to the program that now controller him.

Despite giving everything. Steve came back. By some miracle, he eventually managed to bring Bucky back.

"seventeen,"
The words had no power over him anymore, as his lips themselves could murmur them. These chains were no longer defining him. Yet the memories they still could hold him prisoner, if he let them.

He felt a warmth climb up the side of his body in his deep meditative state.
Bucky opened his eyes as Alpine hit his arm with her head, purring. Telling him she needed food and that the worst crime he had ever committed was leaving her to starve for the entire afternoon. He was out of cat food.

"Yeah yeah girl. It's time for dinner. I'm gonna pop down to the corner and get you your favorite." He got dressed in his jacket, fixing his shoes. As he put his hand on the door, he looked at the cat rolling around on the floor. He scoffed and let out a slight smile that turned into a smirk.

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

MARVELS: Streets of New York

<Snipped quote by Hillan>

Bucky is APPROVED.

For future clarification, we do want to make sure that SHIELD remains more of a looming background element than having an actual in-game presence. Like the major super-teams, the organization should be treated as "busy doing other stuff." You've shown in your sample that you get that, and you're a good player so we have faith that you'll stick to that. We just want to keep consistent so it doesn't open the door for people to say "well how come he gets to use SHIELD guys and I don't?"

@AndyC

Oh yeah, I'm keeping SHIELD as far away as possible. Intending for Bucky to have burned every bridge, and any contact he has with SHIELD-agents is on the downlow to avoid unwanted attention / international embarrassment / pissing off Bucky's now-estranged Avengers friends.

Also, like I mentioned on the sheet: I've got no plans for steve / sam / walker so if anyone wants to play any of those lads, I've left plenty of potential room to alter Buckys relationship to 'em.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

So our only real hang-up on this one is how he would incorporate into the gang-land setting. He fits the bill as a street-level hero, I'm just not certain how he's going to translate into doing team-ups to fight the likes of Hammerhead and Kingpin. Otherwise, I like the concept, and it's a very well-written CS.

We're gonna ponder this one a bit more before making a call.

@AndyC

"Winter Soldier, on Staten Island?"

"Yeah. He was seen getting into trouble with the local gang of fascista"

"Some habits die hard. Get that old man to me. Fisk has been overstepping, it's time I get some super-muscle of my own."

"Right away, Silvermane."

I explicitly made him a reluctant hero/ anti-hero for this specific setting. He might not be willing to put on the spandex at the first go-around. When people come barking at him, he'll bite back. His self-imposed exile is about to come to an end as the RP starts. Sorry if I didn't make that completely clear.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

W I N T E R C I V I L I A N

---

^{_{James Buchanan Barnes ♦ War Veteran ♦ Staten Island ♦ Retired Soldier/Assassin/Captain}}

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

---

^{"From one fight to the other. For ninety years. Every day is a battle"}

After 80 years of service, some willingly, most of it not so much - he left that life behind. SHIELD, and every other security organization in the world certainly weren't happy with that. He's on every security watchlist, but agencies knows better than to poke the winter soldier that sleeps. Leaving the spy-and-hero life behind wasn't easy. He had to say goodbye to a lot of people, a lot like the way a junkie has to cut ties with all of his user-peers, Bucky had to break off completely. He took that choice into his own bionic hand and, for the first time since he lied about his age to go fight in Germany - he felt like he had truly been the one at the wheel.

He's not a weapon, and he's not a spy. He's no longer the Winter Soldier, and he's certainly not Captain America. He's unfit for civilian life, yet knows he cannot engage himself in the hero community at large anymore. Too much blood on his hands, too many secrets in his head. He knows where too many bodies are buried and he's tired of digging graves. Instead, he's trying to apply the skills that his body has memorized to better his local community. Most days that looks a lot like burning a caserole for the Veterans meeting group, or helping the lady down the hall with her broken washing machine.

He can barely sleep at night, and he can't help but get involved in every bit of injustice that comes by his sight. To let go of old grudges. To forgive people in his past, and most of all, to try and forgive himself. James is a broken man who is trying to put the pieces back together.

Bucky is trying to be better.

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:

---

^{"It's been a very long time since I got to punch a nazi. Sadly, it's never long enough."}

I recently read the 2020 run of Falcon & The Winter Soldier. I also recently rewatched all of Burn Notice. Bucky in the context of this game is a mix of these two ideas. He is running from his past, believing himself to have 'done enough' as a hero. He's tired of politics, and he's certianly tired of being told what to do. I want to explore the parts of Bucky where he's the best. Where he's a malplaced regular guy trying to make his way in the most dense city on Earth. The TV-show from back in the olden' days is one of my favorite outings, simply because it spent some time on the very human elements of Bucky.

Bucky is going to balance staying out of trouble with his wish to help people around him. Using his skills and abilities in unconventional ways to aid those that seek his help. He spends his time volunteering at the VA, trying to cope with his regular therapist meetings, all while trying to restart his social life. All of this underpinned by the sneaking suspicion that one of these days, Bucky is gonna break bad and live up to some John Wick-esque behavior.

James Barnes offers a lot of character for his corner of NYC, a corner he himself cannot completely comprehend. He's a man out of time, in a world where he's haunted by all of the harm he's done. Torn between a desire for peace, and a character that's capable of dynamic hyper-violent superhero action all at once. He's a little knight rider, a little Burn Notice, a little Captain America. He's a man who is trying to become better.

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

---

^{"My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I used to be a spy."}

- Alpine: Bucky's best friend and housemate. Nine lives.
- Jacob Porter: Former NAVY-Seal, part of James' Veteran support group. Gives him odd-jobs that are 'extra-legal' when someone has a problem nobody else can solve.
- Michelle Valdez: Agent of SHIELD, SWORD and just about any other acronymed organisation. Used to be deep undercover for HYDRA until Zemo bit a bullet. She debriefed and now tries to handle Bucky.
- Lars 'Lenny' Ulfreds: Psychiatrist who James has weekly meetings with.

- Silvio Manfredi: and James are born the same year. James posession of the super soldier serum in his blood and his deaccelerated aging angers the head of the Manfredi family almost as much as his refusal to work for the Maggia as a hitman.
- The Maggia Syndicate: The organization lead by Silvermane at large are causing trouble in Bucky's neighborhood, and his many odd-jobs helping out the people around him will lead to trouble with the mob as a whole.
- Kingpin: Certainly upset over the time Bucky broke his leg.
- Hydra: Hail Hydra. They've been terminated. Zemo was killed. More heads are certain to sprout up. Someone is always gonna try to re-gain power over the Winter Soldier.
- The X:ers: Neo-Nazi group of hooligans on Bucky's block who are terrorizing his neighbors.

I am agnostic to James having been placed in the role as Captain America in the past or not. If nobody picks up Steve, I'll make a choice regarding it down the line. If someone does decide to play Mister Rogers, Sam or Walker, I've got no qualms going one direction or the other.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

_{MARVELS: Streets of New York Presents: B U C K Y}

ISSUE #0: ржавый, печь, рассвет

---

_{Staten Island ♦ New York City}

In his two-room apartment, Bucky sat crosslegged on the floor, trying to remember the medetation mantras Wong had taught him. Inner peace. Feel the garden of your soul bloom. Move your mind into your special place. Your center.

Problem is, whenever Bucky spends too much time in the peace and quiet, he finds himself remembering what it was like. Those short seconds as the nitrogen gas filled his chamber and his body cooled down. When the programming let go, and he got control again, only to get snuffed out. Seconds that felt like years. When he came to, he wanted to scream, yet his body never allowed him to.
He was screaming inside of his own head. Aware of what he was doing, incapable of stopping it. No power to do anything but exactly what he was told to do.

Each time he was activated, he heard those cursed words echo in his skull, louder than his own voice ever could. Like a spell they held him. Working him strings on a doll. He could shout himself hoarse, yet he would never overpower the might of those simple commands that ruled his entire life. He was bound. Defined by the chains that had been placed on him.

"Longing,"

He sees himself at 17. The day before he was shipped off to Germany. He had just chased away some of the guys who were picking on his best friend. Steve had treated him to a meal at the local fair on Staten Island as a thanks. Steve himself, in spite of his 5'2 frame and 70 pounds body had in turn stopped those same jerks from picking on an old man. Steve was physically weak. But he was the strongest man James knew. He looked up to him. He inspired him.

"rusted,"

"If you look up at someone, what way are they looking at you?"
His father used to say. Steve never once looked down on him, not after he got the serum, not after James stopped being known as 'Sergeant Barnes' and instead became 'Captain Americas' Bucky'. Steve still respected him, valued him. Saw him as a brother. Steve was an inspiration to the entire nation, to to the world. To James, Steve Rogers was finally seen the way he had always known his best friend. He lead James and the Howling Commandos during the war and they turned the tide.

"furnace,"

Steve made the ultimate sacrifice.

Bucky hears Steve scream, Steve's hand grabs Bucky's arm. Problem was that they both quickly realize that his arm is all Steve holds. James falls to his death after a surprise ambush from Hydra forces. Steve has to keep on fighting.

Steve saved the world. He stopped Hydra. He made sure there would be a tomorrow. Yet Steve wasn't there to save his friend from the fires worse than the seventh circle of hell, at least that's what Johnny Blaze had told him many years ago when he gazed into all of Bucky's past deeds. Bucky was turned into a weapon for evil men to enact evil deeds. He was used like a hot knife through butter, burning the world all around him.

He kept screaming when he was forced to take a life. A West-German diplomat. A police captain in Berlin. He was deployed to America. Hunting down certain actors who had fled from Europe.

He tried to scream, more than ever before when he was face to face with the man who made Steve Rogers. A man who's life Bucky's metal arm drained as his windpipe collapsed. He followed his orders, and without a seconds hesitation, he grabbed the gun from his back and fired six bullets into the horrified wife - a mother of one - of the now murdered man.

"daybreak"

When he gunned down four agents working for SHIELD, and when he murdered a king. Bucky was no longer screaming. He had lost his voice. His will to fight. He had utterly surrendered to the program that now controller him.

Despite giving everything. Steve came back. By some miracle, he eventually managed to bring Bucky back.

"seventeen,"
The words had no power over him anymore, as his lips themselves could murmur them. These chains were no longer defining him. Yet the memories they still could hold him prisoner, if he let them.

He felt a warmth climb up the side of his body in his deep meditative state.
Bucky opened his eyes as Alpine hit his arm with her head, purring. Telling him she needed food and that the worst crime he had ever committed was leaving her to starve for the entire afternoon. He was out of cat food.

"Yeah yeah girl. It's time for dinner. I'm gonna pop down to the corner and get you your favorite." He got dressed in his jacket, fixing his shoes. As he put his hand on the door, he looked at the cat rolling around on the floor. He scoffed and let out a slight smile that turned into a smirk.

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

Death Vigil fucking slaps, by the way.

Bernie's a beauty.

X-Men: Emergence

X - M E N
X - M E N

_{Location: 1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center - Westchester County, New York, United States of America}

Home of The X-Men #1.02: "Movie Night"

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously:"The Tour"

Angelica and Elize have been squabbling, Elize is 19 and generally a bit of a hard-headed edgy teenager, she called Angelica a ‘normie’ and Elize was obviously opposed to how Angelica got to ‘hide’ her mutant powers for so long, all the way into adulthood. How Angelica got to have a completely normal life, Amy-Sue Allen, ‘bombshell’, had told her. Angelica found the codenames so silly. Why did they even have these codenames? They had been told it was a relic from the cold war, and how Xavier had been instrumental in preventing the Cuba Crisis escalating into full blown nuclear war, and finally putting an end to hostilities between east and west. These ‘Nom de Guerre” were a remnant of a time of war.
Settling into the mansion, besides Elize being annoying, Amy-Sue and the others proved to be very easy friends. She found herself laughing over coffee with the eccentric Hank McCoy, she found Maximilian charming, like a big brother. And Alex Summers? Oh. Yeah. She liked him. She even caught a glimpse of the elusive Pete Wisdom and Remy LeBeau, a dynamic duo that skulked around.
The faculty and the older students generally spent a lot of time together, the younger students, far outnumbering the faculty, lead to each student who was old and mature enough took a part in raising and helping their younger peers. Those with longer tenure at the school clearly took more initiative. Elize was one of those who insisted on doing very little. Something that already, after just a week, was already jarring for Angelica.

Nine of them had dinner and then were supposed to watch a movie. Amy-Sue, clad in her black tracksuit, was making perfectly made popcorn using the heating from her powers. Her crystalline skin made it hard to discern any moods from her face. Angelica found it hard to read her emotions at first from the metallic shade of grey. However, after a bottle of wine the night before and them getting rather deep into discussing Angelica’s rather quick interest in Mister Summers, as well as Amy-Sue’s own entanglement with a particular military man, she felt rather close to the professor. Amy-Sue arrived with the popcorn to the large sofa, telling Elize to scooch in.The people assembled were Angelica, Hank, Amy, Alex (Who Angelica was making eyes at), Elize, Roberto and Michael McCain, who’s four arms were all working on different projects. Tonight was movie night. The Phantom, from 1968 was on the agenda. Beast’s favorite. Students and alumni alike, each hanging out, like a family.

“Where’s Max?” Miss Jones asks and Alex smirks from across the sofa, Beast in between the two.
“Oh, he’s off training by himself in the danger room. The guy rarely rests. He’s spending his rest time monitoring security for the grounds. He’s like a papa bear. And he gets extra watchful when mom and other dad aren’t here.” Alex joked about Xavier, Storm and Magneto being their parents, it was clear to Angelica that this was a running joke.
Angelica had heard of the Professor’s and Storm’s absence this week, since Angelica met them both for the first time. Appearance at the UN, apparently.

Elize, gets a notification on her phone and tosses the stream on the TV, on top of the phantom. She doesn’t say much, her expression isn’t holding the kind of nonchalance they usually have come to expect from the negasonic teenager. Once the livestream begins, everyone’s mood nosedives. Beast, when the mention of ‘one trillion dollars per week’ is mention makes an off-handed comment about the datapoint being misconstrued, but he’s stunned into silence before he can go into a doctorate speech about data-analysis. The words of the billionaire who will change their lives, the gluttony of all of their greatest fears coming alive. Angelica is shocked to hear Tony Stark utter, and take pride in it.

The TV blares:
"The future is a moving, marching machine, the War Machine. Project War Machine puts the power back in the hands of the people you trust, imagine one of these,"

Unveiling the robotic exosuits, the very notion that war is coming to mutantkind pulls them down, covering them like a wet blanket.
A new day dawn for mutantkind. Angelica can’t help but think that maybe, a nom de guerre might not be such a bad thing to have, after all.

Elize is the first to speak up. For the first time, Angelica doesn't notice that dry sarcasm in her voice.
"Does Max know?"

Once the lifestream pans away from the robotic suits, power is cut in the house.
And not just the house, but an entire 100 mile radius from the Xavier's mansion. Power returns in a minute and a half, the lights come back on.

Hank assures the teenaged girl;
"I think he knows, and I think Storm and The Professor are doing all they can to stop this."

X-Men: Emergence

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

T H E X - M E N
T H E X - M E N

^{"All of this power means nothing without compassion. That's what we have to show them. That's why we are his X-Men"}

Maximilian 'Max' Eisenhardt, Charles Xavier ♦ Mutant Rights Advocates ♦ New York

O R I G I N S:

---

<sup>Charles Xavier, humanitarian, scientist and lobbyist. The current oldest and most widely recognized civilian with more-than-human abilities. While his feats have been brought into question, his presence has been a fact since the Cuba crisis in the 60's. Where he earned medals and televised congratulations from the president for lending his extraordinary negotiation skills to aid world peace. Maximilian Eisenhardt was born in the 80's, and quickly developed his mutant abilities which made life incredibly hard for the young mutant. Charles and Max crossed paths in Ireland during the last decade of the troubles. A mentorship and friendship was founded that soon turned into more of a paternal bond between the two. Maximilian made many errors as a boy and young man, errors Charles helped him understand and correct, where he could. They left Ireland by the end of the troubles in 96, and returned to the mansion Charles had lived in his entire adulthood. A mansion in which it became evident that there was a greater need for more people to be in. Maximilian grew into a man under Charles tutelage, the latter arguing he learnt as much from Max as the younger man did from him. After a few years of sporadically helping those that came knocking, doing brief home-visits, which Charles had been doing since the 50's - Maximilian decided that they needed to do more for their kind. With his awesome powers of magnetism the two constructed the global neuro-interface and telepathic amplifier known as Cerebro. Charles would use it to vastly amplify his already incredible powers, finding mutants in need before the two of them set out to guide these young mutants into finding themselves, helping them find their place in the world.

Their journey of helping mutants has never been without flaws. There's been conflict, strife, anger and loss. But above all, their journey has been filled with love for their kind. Fifteen years ago they decided to turn the mansion into not just a temporary home or a haven, but also a school. A place where mutants could fundamentally be themselves. As Charles's age makes itself ever more apparent, the mansion is getting more crowded with young mutants who needs the Xavier School For Gifted Youngsters. This leaves Max in a ever changing position with more and more responsibilities. His bond with his fellow mutants always growing deeper. This school is his everything, as are the people in it. Xavier's school is the place on earth where no harm shall come to Mutantkind, for the Master Of Magnetism watches over them.</sup>

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

In her living room, Angelica Jones took her first step of the day, feet planted firmly on the cool floor under her bed in this studio apartment. She prepared for the day ahead, sorted her things. Photoshoot during the afternoon, a livestream before then, had to film a social media clip for a sponsor. She had to call her mom and ask how dad was doing. Before all of that, she was gonna have breakfast and go for a run. She got into her sporting clothes, had a bowl of Greek yoghurt and some oats. Prepared a bottle of water that she clipped to the slightly weighted vest she wore during her runs. Hunching down, she tied her brand-dealt sneakers and set out of her apartment. As she left her apartment building, she stopped to put her headphones into her ears. 165 BPM playlist. She had to burn today. This was just like any other day for her.

Her feet touched the ground, once. Then again, twice. Three times. Ever more rapidly. Her breath got shallow, after a few minutes her mouth started to get dry and she paused to drink from her bottle. Her pulse was high. Too high, given how short of a distance she had ran. 185 beats. She hadn't had that high pulse in years. Was it nerves about the meeting? Maybe. Running again, swimming in the sound of the music. Her mind ran free. Her legs moving, her breath feeling normal, yet, her heartrate was constantly climbing. She wasn't sweating. She ran onto the sidewalk, and felt the sun hit her left side. It was warm. Like, really warm. Too warm for Seattle weather in March. As she looked down on the sun hitting her, she noticing something that made her eyes widen. Her long sleeved shirt was smoking. She tried, panicked, to put out the flames by patting it with her other hand, first lightly and then more intensely as the smoke didn't stop, instead only increasing in intensity till the shirt was burnt straight through, revealing that it wasn't her shirt that was on fire. It was her arm.

She yelled out in panic.

"Help! What the hell is going on, someone help me, fire, fire!" She cried, people picking up their phones, most of them to call the authorities. Some few to film the incident. Other hurried away scared. She cried in terror and pain, as the flames erupted from all over her body. She blacked out from panic, and when she came to, she was soaring in the air the world now truly below her. She was hanging 20 feet into the sky, tethered to nothing. Her ears were ringing from the alarms made by the four cars that had crashed looking at the exploding star in the sky. There had now been a barricade formed under her, the flames from her body had spread onto the concrete, lighting a nearby tree on fire, as well as a park bench. She looked at her hands, in complete shock.

"What's happening to me?! Help!" She cried. Police, firefighters and two ambulances had arrived under her, the police had their guns ready, awaiting directive. Directive to shoot. A directive that would never come. As all radios, phones and electronics in 150 meters got their signal completely blocked. The sea of people who had gathered behind the barricade was being parted. With a low sounding him, the metal bars that made up the barricade bent out of the way, and the police's weapons were gently, but forcefully lowered, aiming away from the girl in the sky. Gently enough to make the police think it was their fellow officers that lowered the guns out of their own will, rather than an invisible hand pushing it down. From the now open barricade, a man walked by. Dressed in a red dress-shirt over a 90's Rock Band t-shirt, black business pants and a pair of shiny black office loafers. His hair was silver and he had a spotless shave. His eyes had a soft, almost purple glow to them. He paid the people him no mind, nor did he care for the people on the other side, as he spoke, it was as if the only person in the entire world was Angelica Jones.

His voice boomed with great intensity, serenity and earnest in his voice. A warm smile on his face, his arm slowly extending into the sky.

"I know you are scared. You're unprepared. This all feels like such a sudden change. You are not alone in feeling this way. It's not an accident that this happened to you. You are special. My name is Maximilian. I'm here to help. If you let me, I promise you everything will be okay. I will stay here with you as long as you need me to."

For some inexplicit reason, she believed him. She got calmed just from seeing him act so fearless. She wanted the help he offered. Breathe, Angelica. You are in control, you are in charge of these flames, they don't burn you. They burn for you. Choose a direction and they will follow. A softer, more vague and distant voice echoed in her head. A thought? Perhaps. Her panic was washing off of her, as she took a deep breath and looked intensely on the man in red on the ground. Her eyes focusing on a spot in front of him, and she could feel herself moving, in the air. She approached for a landing.

Way too fast.

She crashed in front of Maximilian, debris flying up into the sky, piece of metal and concrete, a pipe broke, more car alarms. Yet with the flick of his hand, all of these dangers and distractions were taken care of. He simply walked over to the side of the crater, where the girl was standing and peered in. She was unharmed, just, shocked. Looking at her hands and the area around her, at the destruction she had caused.

"I- I did that? How?" She was puzzled, dumbfounded. Terrified and confused.

Maximilian smiled at her again, as he walked into the crater, sliding down the 2 meter hole slope she had made, intentionally with small movements he extremely nimbly avoided the few piece of burning debris that were in his way.

"You are a mutant. Like me. Today was the day your powers arrived. As I said up there. If you let me, I will help you learn how to handle them. To control them. Not let them control you. I will teach you to use them for the betterment of not just yourself, but all." She couldn't explain why, but she believed him. She wanted to believe him. Carefully she raised her trembling hand to take his, afraid to touch him. Yet he never hesitated. No fear of getting burnt. She laid her hand in his and he didn't even flinch, for he had not burnt.

"I trust you fully to not hurt me, just as you have put your trust in me."

"Was it... Your voice in my head I heard?" She said, getting faint from exhaustion, flames dying down, collapsing. Max caught her, her clothes were mostly burnt off, his red button up shirt took a life of it's own as the metal buttons un-buttoned it and pulled it smoothly off of his arms, sweeping over the woman to cover her like a blanket.

"No, that was the person who saved me. Who showed me the way."

Standing on a rooftop overlooking the situation, a man donning a black skin-tight suit held his left hand up to his temple, by the side of his high-tech X-shaped goggles. Watching as his ward, friend and greatest pride hovered out of the crater, carrying the currently unconscious girl. As soon as the two had emerged, the road began repairing itself as the same kind of low-hum could be heard. A minute later, everything had returned back to normal, the only remains of the event were the burn marks on the tree. The police were unsure of what had happened, why were they here? Reports of a block-wide communication error came in over dispatch, but other than that, everything was fine.

Well done, Maximilian. Every person who witnessed this event has seen something completely ordinary, and they will not see you nor Miss Jones leave. There are spare supplies in the car. Clothes, food and water, as well as first aid. I shall see you and Miss Jones for dinner at the house this evening.

Max looked up towards the building where his mentor was positioning, cracking a smile as he nodded in agreement.

S U P P O R T I N G C A S T:

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Allies:

• The Mutants - Groupings of youngsters who attend the school and face different challenges and tribulations, while offering their own assets to the two. Without these kids, Charles and Max are nothing. Select few, given they are ready for it, are taken onto field-trips to help others. Students who have attended, or who came as adults often stay as teachers or rotate as guests over the years.
• Logan - The Wolverine; Manbeast, human weapon and dear friend.
• Mystique - Mutant and Proud; old friend of Max's and radical mutant activist.
  
  Enemies:
• Bolivar Trask
• Mister Sinister
• The Juggernaut.
• Onslaught

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

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Hillan's Parade Of Characters

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

G H O S T R I D E R

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^{_{Johnathon "Johnny" Blaze ♦ Bounty Hunter Of Satan ♦ Earth / Hell ♦}}

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

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^{"Go to Hell."}

Johnny was the Ghost Rider for a decade, back in the start of the century. He was left for dead after a gang attack, his girlfriend at the time and his adoptive father were both with him and in the same situation. On his deathbed, Johnny asked whatever power there was in the world to do a sinner like him one favor. Take his soul, but save his family's life. Heaven didn't take the deal. He became bonded to the ArchDemon Zarathos, and became the spirit of vengeance. For ten years he rode. Fighting anything from no-good drug dealers to rogue angels from the Black Host. While Ghost Rider was putting the hurt on the Knight Of Hell Abaddon, Zarathos betrayed Johnny and broke their pact. Leaving Johnny dying on the ground, and when his heart stopped beating, his soul was sent to hell for all eternity.

Johnny's been dead for four years. Which in hell was the equivalent of 400 years. During this time, Johnny's been fighting demons every second to avoid endless torture. But with Zarathos and Abaddon's coup on Hell, they released Mephisto's most valued inmates. And the Lord Of Hell needs them back. He resurrected Johnny as a man, to hunt the demons down and maybe, he'd get a chance at redemption for his soul. And more importantly, revenge on Zarathos.

He's back from the grave again. No longer a host split between the man and the demon. He's just a rider. A Rider who dreads he's more ghost than man.

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:

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Johnny's prime desire is to kill Zarathos. But in doing so, he'll hunt down every evil son of a bitch he can get. Using the centuries of combat skills he's amassed, he's the most qualified human to fight demons there ever was. Using weaponry enhanced with demonic magic, hellfire loaded buckshot and the occasional shot of demon blood. He's determined to get his soul back from the clutches of hell. For now, his goal is to hunt down the seven sins before they bring ruin to the world.

He's the protector of the innocent and the tormentor of the wicked.

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

---

[+]

Allies:
Elaine Belloc: Nephilim, Daughter of Michael, Granddaughter of God. Former Reaper and the one who will inherent heaven, and all of creation one day.

Jim Corrigan, The Spectre - Ghost Rider's counterpart from heaven. Jim carried the Spirit Of Vengeance in him for many decades before he finally moved on. In his last days, he met Johnny and the two hosts of vengeance had a brotherly bond.

Enemies:
The Seven Deadly Sins; Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride. Seven of the most evil and twisted demons in all of Hell, released upon the earth with Zarathos's betrayal. Sure to bring destruction everywhere they go.

Zarathos - Demon and former Lackey of Mephisto, much to his chagrin. Former Co-Pilot of the Ghost Rider and the catalyst for the spirit of vengeance.

Mephisto - One of the many rulers of the underworld. Like, the fiery one. Not the criminal one. A trickster, a manipulator and overall one of the most evil creatures in all of creation.

Zadkiel And The Black Host - Every bad thing the angels ever did in mythology? Yeah, Zadkiel was the one who was tasked with all of it. Planning on overthrowing Heaven and becoming the new God.

Father Carmichael - A Protestant Priest who is highly critical of this Ghost Rider and his inherent demonic connection and is in direct contact with Heaven, spreading propaganda fed to him from the Angels. The guy is sadly technically innocent, so Johnny cannot do anything to him.

Machine Gun Nurses - a group of highly trained assassins and Demon Hunters posing as Nurses, armed with heavenly steel and bullets forged with angelic technique, making them one of the few human forces in the world that are a threat to Ghost Rider.

S A M P L E P O S T:

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[+]

The Fateful Night in Detroit, because like everything of this nature, it was destined to go down in that Michigan Metropol. The man in black riding his motorcycle, dug up from his grave, a grave that had been empty long before he came there with lantern and shovel. His name was Johnny Blaze, but people these days only knew him as The Rider. Sitting on top of his father's old 1993 Harley Davidson, the bike he infused with the power of Vengeance so long ago. The wheels that tarnished the streets of America with hellfire and spread terror to the things that go bump in the night.

That bike is perhaps the only thing left to remind Johnny of who he was before he was the rider. When he was just a man. A man with a life, adopted into a loving family, spent his life as a performer and fell in love with a girl he had loved his entire life up until that point when they were seventeen. He was a daredevil, a defier of gravity and scared of nothing. Not of flaming rings or rows of buses. He knew his grit and his bike would carry him through it.

Those seconds he was in the air, the roar of the engine as he let go of the gas, the purr of his motorcycle. He felt immortal. And being able to feel that way again, after all those years in the pit? He almost couldn't believe it. He'd be happy, euphoric, even. If that was something he could still feel.

The freeway was empty. It was after all two in the morning. It was off the main road, but Mr. Blaze was hunting his target. And the White SUV with the tinted windows was coming up. They were pulling up onto the overpass, overshadowing the now closed down dive bars of Detroit, bars Johnny had once frequented. Health violations, he would've guessed. He grabbed the chain of Zarthal, demon of the north gate, from it's place wrapped around his shoulder and torso. Un-coiling it from himself with the grace of a olympic gymnast.

Sure, he lacked the magic to do any of the fancyness the chain could do. He couldn't make it burn, and he couldn't change it's shape anymore.

But what could he do with the indestructible metal rope?

Hit the back axle of the SUV. That's what he could do. He threw the chain, coiling around the axle, Coiling the end in his hand around the center part of his handlebar. With his left hand, he pushed the brakes. Forcing his motorcycle to halt, pulling on the chain, and as he started tipping forward, he put his weight on the back of his bike, forcing it back down to the ground after the chain went taunt, the car gave weight, breaking the back left wheel off. Johnny pulled the chain back, coiling it around his right arm as he pulled up alongside the now skidding car, coming to a halt from it's maimed journey.

He removed his black helmet, dismounting the bike. He tossed the helmet on the ground as the front door opened. From his left hip with his left arm, he pulled a revolver loaded with iron bullets blessed by a virgin. The first guard poked his head out, machine gun in hand. Johnny fired his first shot, hitting the guard straight in the head. His head didn't bleed, the bullet lodged in his skull, paralyzing him.

Johnny Fanned the hammer on the revolver as the other two doors opened firing through the car, hitting the guy in the passenger seat in each shoulder, the door closest to him swung open, he took a step backwards to avoid the door, but the possessed man inside lunged at him, Johnny took another step backwards to avoid getting knocked down, shoving his revolver under the man's chin and firing the bullet, seeing it getting lodged inside of his head, it shut him down completely with a spark.

"Come out here, Pride!" He shouted. "Your goons are down! I've come for you!" The rider yelled, the entire car shifted as the second backdoor opened, and Pride, wearing his 6'8 Mexican Cartel Boss- Meat Suit, smirked.
"Well well well. If it isn't little Johnny. Come here to play with the big boys, huh? Follows us out of hell? Came back to get a taste of the good life, ay?"

"There will be no life left for you after tonight, Pride. And after you, I'm killing your siblings."

"My my my, little Johnny's all full of himself. You're really gonna take us all down, all by yourself? Driving your dad's bike, using an old Rider's gun? C'mon. You think I don't know that revolver's the one, what, Hellbilly, used? What a stupid-ass name. You can't kill demons with it. Your blessed iron doesn't do anything but put my boys under for a bit. They'll recover, and it'll do nothi-" He was cut off by Johnny firing four shots into him, hitting his stomach, his chest and his forehead, throwing his head back, and making him take three steps backwards, leaning against the highway wall.

"Nothing but tickle me." He said, the bullets popping out of him as the impact-wound in his forehead immediately closed. A sadistic smile curling on his lips as he walked towards Johnny who was largely unphased, if only angrier by the futility of his firearm. His face was covered in darkness as the singular horn grew out of his left side of the face, his skin turning dark red and claws sprouting on his hands and he grew a half a feet and about doubled in muscle mass.
"You aren't surprised by my true form, Rider?" He asked, mockingly. His voice having a much deeper boom to it as Johnny simply shook his head.

"You aren't the first demon-son-of-a-bitch I've killed. I've waded in the blood of your kind, Pride. And you won't be the last." He holstered his revolver and drew his shotgun. Pride could smell the ammunition and knew he couldn't well, be prideful this time. This wasn't virgin-blessed iron.

He dashed, slicing at Johnny, who had to move backwards, his sawed off shotgun coming up into firing-height as Pride tackled him, the shot going off, but missing by half an inch. The buckshot hit the pavement, exploding into small burning bits of gunpowder.

"Where the hell did you get hellfire from?!" He shouted and Johnny simply smirked. "It's not the only trick up my sleeve." Pride slashed at him, Johnny drew the knife from his back, hitting Pride in his palm, the blade cut him with a bright light, Pride let out a painful groan at the presence of a blade powerful enough to harm him. While Pain was recoiling from the counter-attack, Johnny holstered the shotgun again, saving his remaining shot.

"You insect! A shard of Michael's sword, in your possession?!" He yelled, his voice exploding the windows on the SUV he had been riding in before. Completely stunned to learn that Johnny posessed one of the pieces of the now broken blade, that the Archangel had used to defeat his younger brother.
"A going away present from Hell. Mephisto called it my 500-year gold watch." Johnny goaded, twirling the blade in his hand.
"Heh. You think fighting for 500 years in the pit makes you special, boy?" Pride was getting more composed, less angry about the weaponry Johnny brought. He dashed forward, faster than Johnny could react, the man swiped at him with the knife, but Pride avoided it, jumping in a semi-circle around him, slashing Johnny in the side, a grazing wound. He kicked off again, his knee hitting Johnny in the stomach, while Johnny got to cut him in the arm with the knife, a shallow cut, but still one that pissed the demon off.

He clawed Johnny in the face, he slashed the demon's leg. Getting some distance between the far faster, stronger and more durable foe, Johnny realized he was losing a lot of blood. His leather jacket was soaked in it, in fact. The claw wound wasn't so shallow, after all. He had to end this, quick, or he was doomed. Something else caught his attention, too. The sound of engines in the distance. Motorcycles, getting closer.

"Oh. Look. It's my cavalry." Pride grinned, and Johnny finally showed another emotion than anger and confidence, he was actually concerned. "Ah, there we go. A crack in that armor of your, Johnny Blaze." Pride got ready to attack again, Johnny twirled the shining silver blade in his hand as Pride shared him, twirling it upside down and throwing it at the demon, aiming for his heart.

Like a bolt of lightning, the dagger soared through the air, piercing the demon in the chest.

He cried out in anger and pain, cursing the rider in his ancient tongue. Johnny had a smile on his lips, sure of his victory. But the demon didn't give in. His hand gripped the handle of the blade, pulling the blade out, as his hand and the wound both started burning from being in the presence of the divine blade. He threw the bloodied blade to the ground, his demonic blood lighting the ground on fire as the metal clinked to the floor. Johnny reached for his gun, but as he did, Pride was already upon him, unleashing a flurry of blows tearing him to shreds.

Cutting him up, breaking his arm, scratching him across the face again, putting Johnny on the ground with his boot-clad foot onto his chest, breaking his ribs. Johnny cried out in pain, but nobody was there to help him. The five bikes stopped beside them, and Pain motioned for the other demonic spawn to stay back. This one was his.

After breaking the last of his ribs, Pain grabbed Johnny by the neck and dangled him off the railing, below was a 20 meter drop. He was gonna choke the life out of him, and then drop him for good measure.

"You know what they say, Blaze. Pride cometh before the fall."

As Pride applied more pressure to Johnny's throat, the man's hand grabbed the shotgun and jerked it to the demon's face.
Uttering two most profound words in all of human language. Something not even the destruction of Babel could take away from us.

"Fuck. You." Johnny Told Pride, who barely managed to parry with his arm as he pulled the trigger, unleashing the second shot of hellfire-loaded shotgun shell onto the demon, a loud explosion covered the two and Pride's grip on Johnny was loosened, he careened to the ground. A man beaten and broken, fire from his gun coming off him in ironic symbolism.

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

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"My name is Johnny, and it might be a sin, but I'm the best there's ever been."

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<Snipped quote by Hillan>

Oh hey stranger, are you interested in this RP?

@Sep

Careful with that joke, it's an antique.