Mao Mao

MARVELS: Streets of New York

My bad. I just got distracted with life and stuff.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

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VENOM

_{THE ALCOVE, ALPHABET CITY}

...AND A PRAYER

---

Admittedly, living off of freelancing was difficult, especially when it came to covering rent each month. Finding work as a former journalist was easy enough. The real struggle was persuading a landlord who would accept a tenant without a traditional, steady paycheck and not immediately reject their application. Fortunately, Eddie found someone willing to rent to him—with the condition of an extra month’s security deposit, of course. His new home was a cozy, semi-decent studio in East Village, ten minutes from First Avenue station and five from a nearby community garden. All things considered, it was a far better living arrangement than he had ever dared to hope for. Although, he did need to buy some furniture very soon.

For tonight, though, a mattress on the hardwood floor was sufficient enough. A half-eaten chocolate cake rested in its plastic container atop the makeshift bed, while a duffle bag filled with clothes and cherished mementos leaned against the exposed brick wall. Eddie lay sprawled out, absorbed in his phone, scrolling through news articles about the city, intrigued to learn about all the changes that had unfolded during his absence. His companion, Venom, gazed contemplatively out the window, captivated by the vibrant nightlife unfolding in the neighborhood enough to break the silence. We want to go out in town, their voice laced with excitement and eagerness.

Eddie, still wrestling with fatigue, let out a long yawn. "It's 'going out on the town,'" he corrected lazily, his eyes half-closed. "I've had a long enough day; all I want is some rest. We can go out first thing tomorrow."

Lazy ass, Venom retorted with exaggerated disdain, their words sharp enough to narrowly cut through Eddie's drowsiness. With a dramatic flourish, they turned back to the window, casually munching on a rather large slice of chocolate cake. Eddie rolled his eyes at the childish jab but couldn't help but smile slightly. With the soft hum of the video playing in the background, it hit him—this new chapter in his life had truly begun, and he was utterly clueless about what to do next. Fuck.

"Alright, let’s be straight for a moment," the interviewer interjected after enduring what felt like a never-ending spiel during his podcast. "People listening to you talk might think you're some conspiracy-obsessed nutjob millionaire hoarding up supplies like it's an apocalypse clearance sale."

"Actually, it's billionaire," Carlton Drake shot back, a touch of irritation in his voice before he erupted into a hearty laugh. "But hey, I get it. My detractors might see it that way and paint me as some paranoid doomsday prepper. But with the way the world's been spiraling lately, who can really fault me for wanting a little peace of mind?"

The interviewer leaned back in his chair, clearly still skeptical, and crossed his arms. "Sure, everyone craves security more than ever. But don't you think some folks might view your foundation as profiting from this anxiety?"

Carlton shrugged, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he retrieved a cigarette case from his coat pocket. He flicked it open with a smooth motion. "Look, Joe, we don’t twist someone's arm to make them donate. And trust me, that money isn't just sitting idle in some vault like Scrooge McDuck's gold. Every single dollar is strategically invested to secure our future amid these unpredictable times—something our so-called heroes fail to even provide. Frankly, I'd even argue they exacerbate the very issues we're facing today."

Joe leaned forward, his interest piqued. “What do you mean?”

Carlton lit a cigarette, tossing the case casually aside and exhaling smoke before he spoke. "Well, think about it. How long before we're faced with yet another alien invasion? Or to keep it closer to home—how soon will our city plunge into turmoil again because of another villain with some kind of vendetta against, I don't know, Spider-Man? Each showdown doesn't just leave us with debris to clean up; it inflicts devastating ripple effects. We're talking soaring insurance premiums, crippling medical bills that can devastate families, and a surge in homelessness driven by rampant price gouging. It feels like we're caught in this vicious cycle of greed and devastation, barely keeping our heads above the water, always on the edge for the next disaster. This can't last forever. And when it all finally unravels, society will crumble soon enough, and I want to be ready for that."

Joe nodded, clearly captivated by the fervor behind the words. "So, this is the vision fueling the Life Foundation?"

"Exactly," Carlton affirmed, a spark igniting in his eyes. "I'm all about building a community—a coalition of the willing ready to stand together in solidarity. A strong, united front is a must if we're going to tackle the challenges of rebuilding society after it all came crashing down," he replied, flicking the glowing tip of his cigarette into the ashtray with a thoughtful pause. "But rallying together? Rebuilding a society? That doesn't come cheap, even for someone with my resources. So if someone is keen to contribute with their own money, why wouldn’t I welcome their support?"

"And let's face it: the Avengers aren't exactly rolling up their sleeves or footing the bill after 'defending' New York from whatever threats they bring forth to the city," he added with a wry grin, taking another puff of his cigarette.

Joe chuckled, now more convinced than earlier. "Sounds like you're taking a jab at a certain tin man."

"Oh, don't even get me started on him..."

---

MARVELS: Streets of New York

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VENOM

_{OUR LADY OF SAINTS CHURCH}

ON A WING...

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Upon entering the Our Lady of Saints Church for the first time in decades, there was an immediate wave of nostalgia that washed over Eddie. The tall, earth-toned stained glass window cast a warm glow over the chancel that stirred up memories. The poignant image of his mother's casket adorned with soft white and pink flowers, surrounded by flickering candles that danced around. He then felt his father's piercing glare when he dipped his hand into the consecrated wine to retreat his piece of bread during Holy Communion, a silent promise that he was getting severely punished at home. And that night, under the silver sheen of moonlight, he uttered a final prayer in a whisper, aware of the gravity of his words for his seemingly dwindling time. Cautiously, Eddie approached the altar as his heart was pounding, feeling as if he were intruding upon sacred ground—one that would resent his presence for the weight of the sins he'd committed since his last visit.

Yet, this place was also where he met them.

Home sweet home, Venom purred with a low, contented growl. It was as if the symbiote had been longing for this moment. Everything's still the same, Eddie.

"Yeah, just like before," Eddie echoed, standing before the altar, his mind swirling with uncertainty. What the hell was he even doing here? He shouldn't have even made the trip—it would've been smarter to head to his new place, grab a bite to eat, and then get some much-needed rest. But now, he stood there, drenched in sweat, with his hands hovering over the altar. Just as he hesitated, a voice echoed through the empty church, calling out to him.

"Are you alright, good sir?"

Eddie turned and saw the priest, slightly older than him, with an olive complexion and grayish hair that complemented the dark fabric of his cassock. As he closed the door behind him, the priest approached the altar, his eyes fixed on Eddie, patiently waiting for a response. "I... am, father," Eddie finally uttered, trying to inject steadiness into his voice than he felt: a bundle of nerves acutely aware of how out of place he was here.

"Do you need food? Shelter for the night?" The priest asked, his accent laced with an unmistakable touch of concern for the stranger.

"No, no," Eddie quickly shook his head, trying to muster a warm smile for the act of kindness. "I just came by to visit."

"You've been here before then?" The priest inquired, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

Eddie chuckled softly, a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes. "You could say that."

The priest returned the smile, then turned his attention to the altar, ensuring it was in perfect order. "What's your name?"

DON'T ANSWER, Venom snarled fiercely, their voice laced with suspicion. Even since they had been on the run, their wariness of strangers had only intensified; it never tipped into outright paranoia. Though there were close calls. Drawing from his limited grasp of biology, Eddie speculated it was an intrinsic survival instinct shared by both humans and animals, heightened by his own turbulent emotions. Perhaps he was wrong, given that he was dealing with an alien entity, but it was close enough to a satisfying explanation. Still, he felt stifling, a sensation that grew with every passing second until the priest gently placed a calming hand on Eddie's back.

"It's okay. I didn't mean to unsettle you, son." The priest said softly, his frown transforming into a look of empathy. "If you need some space, I completely understand. Or if you'd prefer, I'm here to listen to your confession whenever you're ready."

Confession? The word struck Eddie like lightning. It was something he had nearly forgotten—something he hadn't experienced in years. Certainly not since high school. And definitely not since the whirlwind that was the symbiote had entered his life. For years, he had let spite fuel his every action, inflicting pain on countless lives, all driven by a singular obsession to settle the score with one man. When his attempts were foiled, he even turned his wrath on those the man held dear without a second thought... Maybe confessing wasn't such a bad idea after all. But not just yet; Eddie must navigate this conversation carefully, shielding the monstrous truth lurking beneath his skin.

"Thanks for the offer, but I should be going, Father," Eddie replied, feeling the weight of his decision settle in his chest.

As he turned to leave, a warm grin spread across his face at the priest's farewell words: "You're always welcome back here." Those words ignited a comforting warmth in his heart as he stepped back out into the cold, icy night.

---

MARVELS: Streets of New York

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

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^{_{Edward Brock/Venom ♦ Symbiote ♦ Alphabet City, East Village ♦}}

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

---

^{"WE AR BONDED, EDDIE. IN DEATH, ONLY WILL WE PART."}

Edward 'Eddie' Brock sought religion, as he had always done, for forgiveness before he went through with his plan. After being laid off from the Daily Bugle and realizing his future had been destined for failure, he wandered into Our Lady of Saints Church for a final prayer before intending to commit suicide. Instead, he encountered an alien presence that bonded with him in body and mind, driven by hatred and despair for both Spider-Man and Peter Parker. And what emerged for that church was a revitalized man fueled by venom for the vigilante webhead and his former work rival. For four long years, this relentless campaign swept through the streets of New York City, unleashing a wave of fear and terror that targeted not just him but those he held dear. But the spite was starting to run dry as it was a constant cycle of bitter violence. That was around the time when Carnage arrived.

Carnage was a terrifying creature, the ultimate killer driven by an insatiable bloodlust. Eddie and the symbiote initially planned on neutralizing them to learn about their origins, but they were overwhelmed and witnessed harm coming to Eddie's former fiancée, Anne Weying. Desperate for vengeance, they turned to the web-slinger for assistance in stopping the other symbiote. And in the end, in an act to protect Parker's loved ones, Venom tackled Carnage into a fire that seemingly killed both of them. But that wasn't the case. They found themselves washed up on the shores of Massachusetts. Instead of returning to New York, Eddie and the symbiote embarked on a journey of healing and redefining their future—one rid of the malign and despair that brought them together.

Now, after a decade away, hiding away from the world had become tiresome as the march of time was leaving its mark.

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:

---

Venom had always been one of the favorite comic superheroes to read as well as write about. I wanna focus on an older, somewhat mature Venom/Eddie who finally took the time to reflect on his behavior and decided to return home. At the same time, I was sorta inspired by the three-issue run of Venom: On Trial and the six-issue Venom: Lethal Protector. Additionally, I wanna be able to mesh well with Spider-Man, too, thus being older.

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

---

Anne Weying: Ever since her encounter with Carnage, Anne moved out of New York City in favor of San Francisco to move on with her life from the incident. Eddie tried to rekindle their friendship years, but it was better for them to maintain the distance.

Carl Brock: Somehow, the old bastard was still breathing and living relatively comfortably. Eddie hasn't talked to his father since being told how much of a disgrace he had become after getting laid off. The two haven't met since that night.

Carlton Drake: A billionaire who created the Life Foundation, an organization dedicated to safeguarding its ultra-rich clientele in the event of societal collapse. He is willing to spend much to achieve the ideal security system for himself and his clients.

Roland Treece: Another billionaire who founded Treece International, a construction corporation, and a client and investor of the Life Foundation. His company recently secured a lucrative contract with the city to sweep homeless encampments.

Patricia Tilby: Talented television reporter and investigative journalist made famous for her coverage of gentrification in District X that exclusively targeted the mutated population. Recently, she began investigating the underground homeless community.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Hider

---

VENOM

_{LIBERTY STATE PARK, JERSEY CITY}

HOMECOMING

---

Home stood before them, with the New York City skyline remarkably unchanged from a decade since their departure. The moment Eddie Brock laid eyes on the city, a whirlwind of emotions came flooding in all at once—bittersweet memories previously subdued emerged with vivid intensity. He swallowed it all up and resisted the urge to rip up his ferry ticket on the spot and run back to some hidey-hole where he could quietly fade away from the world. Yet, deep down, he knew he had to carry out the choice he'd made, no matter how idiotic it seemed. But more importantly, there was someone else in his life he couldn't readily ignore.

That cost ten bucks, Eddie. Consider that before you rip it up.

The familiar, powerful growl reverberated within him, providing a sense of much-needed warmth. Admittedly, their relentless presence was jarring at first, their voice always looming, ready to assert itself or chime in with their thoughts all of a sudden. More often than not, it was the burden of negative emotions that fueled their commentary, turning them more bloodthirsty and fierce. It took the brink of death for Eddie to realize how much it had become a problem entirely, and it took years of tumultuous coexistence for him and the symbiote to finally carve out an understanding. Though even after all that, insatiable cravings still lingered, especially for indulgent delights such as double chocolate cake.

We take offense at that inaccurate statement; they rumbled, with a sharp yet playful edge to their tone.

"Noted," Eddie quipped, drawing a baffled glance from a stranger reading a newspaper. He shrugged it off; he was well-acquainted with the quizzical reactions that came his way whenever he spoke aloud in public. At first, it had gnawed at him enough to make the symbiote morph some earphones, just so he could talk openly without being assumed weird. But as time passed and his bond with them deepened, the stares and whispers faded into mere background noise.

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and a notification flashed on the screen: the ferry to Manhattan would arrive at the port in five minutes. Eddied tucked his phone away and took a deep breath, ready to embrace whatever awaited him on the other side. Perhaps, once settled, he'd celebrate the occasion with that double chocolate cake; it seemed fitting, although the mere thought alone made him groan a little for some reason.

You thought of it first, Venom teased.

---

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MARVELS: Streets of New York

Character Sheet

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

---

^{_{Edward Brock/Venom ♦ Symbiote ♦ Alphabet City, East Village ♦}}

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

---

^{"WE AR BONDED, EDDIE. IN DEATH, ONLY WILL WE PART."}

Edward 'Eddie' Brock sought religion, as he had always done, for forgiveness before he went through with his plan. After being laid off from the Daily Bugle and realizing his future had been destined for failure, he wandered into Our Lady of Saints Church for a final prayer before intending to commit suicide. Instead, he encountered an alien presence that bonded with him in body and mind, driven by hatred and despair for both Spider-Man and Peter Parker. And what emerged for that church was a revitalized man fueled by venom for the vigilante webhead and his former work rival. For four long years, this relentless campaign swept through the streets of New York City, unleashing a wave of fear and terror that targeted not just him but those he held dear. But the spite was starting to run dry as it was a constant cycle of bitter violence. That was around the time when Carnage arrived.

Carnage was a terrifying creature, the ultimate killer driven by an insatiable bloodlust. Eddie and the symbiote initially planned on neutralizing them to learn about their origins, but they were overwhelmed and witnessed harm coming to Eddie's former fiancée, Anne Weying. Desperate for vengeance, they turned to the web-slinger for assistance in stopping the other symbiote. And in the end, in an act to protect Parker's loved ones, Venom tackled Carnage into a fire that seemingly killed both of them. But that wasn't the case. They found themselves washed up on the shores of Massachusetts. Instead of returning to New York, Eddie and the symbiote embarked on a journey of healing and redefining their future—one rid of the malign and despair that brought them together.

Now, after a decade away, hiding away from the world had become tiresome as the march of time was leaving its mark.

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:

---

Venom had always been one of the favorite comic superheroes to read as well as write about. I wanna focus on an older, somewhat mature Venom/Eddie who finally took the time to reflect on his behavior and decided to return home. At the same time, I was sorta inspired by the three-issue run of Venom: On Trial and the six-issue Venom: Lethal Protector. Additionally, I wanna be able to mesh well with Spider-Man, too, thus being older.

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

---

Anne Weying: Ever since her encounter with Carnage, Anne moved out of New York City in favor of San Francisco to move on with her life from the incident. Eddie tried to rekindle their friendship years, but it was better for them to maintain the distance.

Carl Brock: Somehow, the old bastard was still breathing and living relatively comfortably. Eddie hasn't talked to his father since being told how much of a disgrace he had become after getting laid off. The two haven't met since that night.

Carlton Drake: A billionaire who created the Life Foundation, an organization dedicated to safeguarding its ultra-rich clientele in the event of societal collapse. He is willing to spend much to achieve the ideal security system for himself and his clients.

Roland Treece: Another billionaire who founded Treece International, a construction corporation, and a client and investor of the Life Foundation. His company recently secured a lucrative contract with the city to sweep homeless encampments.

Patricia Tilby: Talented television reporter and investigative journalist made famous for her coverage of gentrification in District X that exclusively targeted the mutated population. Recently, she began investigating the underground homeless community.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Hider

---

VENOM

_{LIBERTY STATE PARK, JERSEY CITY}

HOMECOMING

---

Home stood before them, with the New York City skyline remarkably unchanged from a decade since their departure. The moment Eddie Brock laid eyes on the city, a whirlwind of emotions came flooding in all at once—bittersweet memories previously subdued emerged with vivid intensity. He swallowed it all up and resisted the urge to rip up his ferry ticket on the spot and run back to some hidey-hole where he could quietly fade away from the world. Yet, deep down, he knew he had to carry out the choice he'd made, no matter how idiotic it seemed. But more importantly, there was someone else in his life he couldn't readily ignore.

That cost ten bucks, Eddie. Consider that before you rip it up.

The familiar, powerful growl reverberated within him, providing a sense of much-needed warmth. Admittedly, their relentless presence was jarring at first, their voice always looming, ready to assert itself or chime in with their thoughts all of a sudden. More often than not, it was the burden of negative emotions that fueled their commentary, turning them more bloodthirsty and fierce. It took the brink of death for Eddie to realize how much it had become a problem entirely, and it took years of tumultuous coexistence for him and the symbiote to finally carve out an understanding. Though even after all that, insatiable cravings still lingered, especially for indulgent delights such as double chocolate cake.

We take offense at that inaccurate statement; they rumbled, with a sharp yet playful edge to their tone.

"Noted," Eddie quipped, drawing a baffled glance from a stranger reading a newspaper. He shrugged it off; he was well-acquainted with the quizzical reactions that came his way whenever he spoke aloud in public. At first, it had gnawed at him enough to make the symbiote morph some earphones, just so he could talk openly without being assumed weird. But as time passed and his bond with them deepened, the stares and whispers faded into mere background noise.

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and a notification flashed on the screen: the ferry to Manhattan would arrive at the port in five minutes. Eddied tucked his phone away and took a deep breath, ready to embrace whatever awaited him on the other side. Perhaps, once settled, he'd celebrate the occasion with that double chocolate cake; it seemed fitting, although the mere thought alone made him groan a little for some reason.

You thought of it first, Venom teased.

---

MARVELS: Streets of New York

My sheet should be done by today hopefully. Posted it.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

Given that my original plan was rejected, would Bishop (one unable to time travel of course) being the protector of District X for what I have in mind (I mean, that's what happens in the comic run)?

MARVELS: Streets of New York

Unless you guys would perform the former, I was thinking about mainly the community living in the neighborhood because I don't know what would be acceptable members for the X-Men cast to use (so the latter is kinda like Danny the Street but without the sentient street, if that makes any sense or requires further explaining).

MARVELS: Streets of New York

Speaking of Venom... how would y'all feel if I did something like District X/Mutopia X/Mutant Town instead?

Mao Mao's Rambling Concepts

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VENOM

_{THE ALCOVE, ALPHABET CITY}

...AND A PRAYER

---

Admittedly, living off of freelancing was difficult, especially when it came to covering rent each month. Finding work as a former journalist was easy enough. The real struggle was persuading a landlord who would accept a tenant without a traditional, steady paycheck and not immediately reject their application. Fortunately, Eddie found someone willing to rent to him—with the condition of an extra month’s security deposit, of course. His new home was a cozy, semi-decent studio in East Village, ten minutes from First Avenue station and five from a nearby community garden. All things considered, it was a far better living arrangement than he had ever dared to hope for. Although, he did need to buy some furniture very soon.

For tonight, though, a mattress on the hardwood floor was sufficient enough. A half-eaten chocolate cake rested in its plastic container atop the makeshift bed, while a duffle bag filled with clothes and cherished mementos leaned against the exposed brick wall. Eddie lay sprawled out, absorbed in his phone, scrolling through news articles about the city, intrigued to learn about all the changes that had unfolded during his absence. His companion, Venom, gazed contemplatively out the window, captivated by the vibrant nightlife unfolding in the neighborhood enough to break the silence. We want to go out in town, their voice laced with excitement and eagerness.

Eddie, still wrestling with fatigue, let out a long yawn. "It's 'going out on the town,'" he corrected lazily, his eyes half-closed. "I've had a long enough day; all I want is some rest. We can go out first thing tomorrow."

Lazy ass, Venom retorted with exaggerated disdain, their words sharp enough to narrowly cut through Eddie's drowsiness. With a dramatic flourish, they turned back to the window, casually munching on a rather large slice of chocolate cake. Eddie rolled his eyes at the childish jab but couldn't help but smile slightly. With the soft hum of the video playing in the background, it hit him—this new chapter in his life had truly begun, and he was utterly clueless about what to do next. Fuck.

"Alright, let’s be straight for a moment," the interviewer interjected after enduring what felt like a never-ending spiel during his podcast. "People listening to you talk might think you're some conspiracy-obsessed nutjob millionaire hoarding up supplies like it's an apocalypse clearance sale."

"Actually, it's billionaire," Carlton Drake shot back, a touch of irritation in his voice before he erupted into a hearty laugh. "But hey, I get it. My detractors might see it that way and paint me as some paranoid doomsday prepper. But with the way the world's been spiraling lately, who can really fault me for wanting a little peace of mind?"

The interviewer leaned back in his chair, clearly still skeptical, and crossed his arms. "Sure, everyone craves security more than ever. But don't you think some folks might view your foundation as profiting from this anxiety?"

Carlton shrugged, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he retrieved a cigarette case from his coat pocket. He flicked it open with a smooth motion. "Look, Joe, we don’t twist someone's arm to make them donate. And trust me, that money isn't just sitting idle in some vault like Scrooge McDuck's gold. Every single dollar is strategically invested to secure our future amid these unpredictable times—something our so-called heroes fail to even provide. Frankly, I'd even argue they exacerbate the very issues we're facing today."

Joe leaned forward, his interest piqued. “What do you mean?”

Carlton lit a cigarette, tossing the case casually aside and exhaling smoke before he spoke. "Well, think about it. How long before we're faced with yet another alien invasion? Or to keep it closer to home—how soon will our city plunge into turmoil again because of another villain with some kind of vendetta against, I don't know, Spider-Man? Each showdown doesn't just leave us with debris to clean up; it inflicts devastating ripple effects. We're talking soaring insurance premiums, crippling medical bills that can devastate families, and a surge in homelessness driven by rampant price gouging. It feels like we're caught in this vicious cycle of greed and devastation, barely keeping our heads above the water, always on the edge for the next disaster. This can't last forever. And when it all finally unravels, society will crumble soon enough, and I want to be ready for that."

Joe nodded, clearly captivated by the fervor behind the words. "So, this is the vision fueling the Life Foundation?"

"Exactly," Carlton affirmed, a spark igniting in his eyes. "I'm all about building a community—a coalition of the willing ready to stand together in solidarity. A strong, united front is a must if we're going to tackle the challenges of rebuilding society after it all came crashing down," he replied, flicking the glowing tip of his cigarette into the ashtray with a thoughtful pause. "But rallying together? Rebuilding a society? That doesn't come cheap, even for someone with my resources. So if someone is keen to contribute with their own money, why wouldn’t I welcome their support?"

"And let's face it: the Avengers aren't exactly rolling up their sleeves or footing the bill after 'defending' New York from whatever threats they bring forth to the city," he added with a wry grin, taking another puff of his cigarette.

Joe chuckled, now more convinced than earlier. "Sounds like you're taking a jab at a certain tin man."

"Oh, don't even get me started on him..."

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