[IC] Ultimate One Universe: Marvel/DC RPG

[HenryJonesJr]

Smallville, KS

A cloud of dust rolled up the driveway as Johnathan Kent's old truck came to settle into the familiar divets it had dug into the dirt path over the years of use. The doors of the truck swung open with a creek, and the Kents stepped out, and behind them jumped Lucy, the new dog Clark had helped train over the summer. The pup scrambled excitedly over the dirt and grass in front of the Kent house and leaped into Clark's arms, licking his face, "Okay, Luce. Okay. Okay."

Clark laughed and put the dog back on the ground before embracing his parents.

"Clark, what are you doing here?" his mother asked after an embrace. "You didn't call. Is everything alright?"

Superman smiled, "Of course. I just needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of the big city for a little bit."

"Also need to get away from super villain prison breaks?" his father raised an eyebrow.

"Those are easy," Clark winked. "Metropolis traffic? That's the killer."

The family sat down for a cup of tea, and Clark took in the smell of his childhood home. It was like a calming drug to his stressed out mind. He and J'onn had spent days attempting to find where the cyber attack on the Raft had originated, but had come up empty handed. Even BRAINIAC seemed unable to find an explanation for it. Nothing about the incident sat right with Clark, and the fact that Fury hadn't contacted him yet didn't sit right either. There seemed to be a cyber genius on Clark's tail and no one could figure out who it was.

"You can lie all you want," Johnathan said, looking over his glasses at his son. "But I can tell when something's eating at you."

"It's the prison break," Clark sighed. "Or more to the point whoever is behind it."

"So you don't know?" His mother put her teacup down. The look she had always given him when she was worried about his life as a crimefighter crossed her face. He always hated having these kinds of talks with her. His father seemed able to take it, but his mother always got pale, and said little. Telling her that he had no idea who was releasing his enemies from prison made things even worse. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Luthor, I'm sure," Pa Kent seethed.

"At first, I figured that's who did it," Clark nodded. "But nothing leads back to him. Not even Luthor is this thorough."

Ma got up and left the room, and before Clark could go and follower her, Pa put his hand on his son's shoulder to sit him down, "Best just let her go, boy. She'll be fine."

"I shouldn't have told her," Clark shook his head. "All I ever do is worry her."

"She's proud of you, son. We both are," he smiled. "We know it's dangerous. But we also both know the world itself would be a whole lot more dangerous without you. I know you're having problems now. But you'll figure it out. You always have."

Clark had to smile. His father always had unwavering faith in him. Clark wasn't always sure it was well placed, but if nothing else it made him feel better about his current situation. For that, he was thankful for his father, "Thanks, dad."

[Byrd Man]

Nightrunner said
Resting on my hands and knees, I began to sample different aspects of the crime scene. My samples included both a small section of the carpeting, and a short segment of the 'memory-fiber'. When I pocketed those, Bruce concluded his own analysis and announced that further investigation of his particular lead could only be found at home base.As useful as a partial print would be, a more personal touch might be useful from the 'perp'. So, I placed myself directly in the area where the illusion of the woman had been, and I looked for a spot that could have presented her image completely uninterrupted. Considering her walk, there were only a few angles that could display that image. So, placing myself in 'her' footsteps, I strolled through the museum, looking upward the entire time. I ran through this several times before I used a flashlight."Batman," I whisper-shouted. "I've found it." With a mere four minutes remaining before the guard should've cycled back to our location, I spotted the projector, mounted upon the ceiling. "I see it!"

"Take it," I said as I tossed Dick a multi-tool from my belt. "We can't do a thorough analysis of it at the moment. We can examine it in the bunker."

Dick went to work while I prepped the security system to reactivate. He had the projector off the mounting in under a minute, and thirty seconds later we disappeared over the side of the roof as Wayne Tech cameras and alarms kicked back on. The two of us navigated over the roofs in silence until we finally got far enough away from the museum to speak.

"I have to be somewhere," I said while Dick tucked the evidence into his belt. "I'm looking into some potential ROC gangsters tonight, so I have a lot of my plate. You know the passwords to the bunker's computer systems, see what you can find on what we got back there. If you need help, call Alfred and see if he'll assist you."

I looked at the young man before me. The kid who wouldn't take no for an answer, the kid I told to go home before he got himself hurt. He still has some progress to make, like I do as well, but he's well on the way to being a competent crime fighter in his own right.

"Good luck, Robin. I'll be in touch."

[HenryJonesJr]

"Sir, you may want to see this," the butler says, approaching the old man in the chair.

The man sighs, softly closing the book he is reading before placing it on the table. He stands, showing his wiry, frail-looking frame. The light from above reflects harshly off his completely bald head. With a slight hunch, his skinny neck protrudes from tiny shoulders. Perched on top of it is an ugly, boney face adorned with a beak for a nose. His body is more or less rail thin. Dressed in all black, with a turtleneck covering his scrawny neck, the man looks like his namesake.

"What is it now?" Adriane Toomes bellows at his servant.

"You wanted me to inform you the next time one of those...things were on the television."

Toomes's eyebrow rise and he follows the butler into a room with a huge TV screen covering a wall. On it, a gigantic man in what seemed to be a rhino costume was laying waste to downtown Manhattan. The rhino flips a cop car with ease, before tossing a piece of concrete through another. This is exactly what Adrian has been looking fore.

"Prepare the suit. That brute will keep Spider-man busy."

**********

"It just wouldn't be a fun Friday night without a rhino monster attacking the City," I say as I swing towards the downtown rampage. Another week, another costumed, superpowered crazy person is threatening my town, and I'm gonna stop him. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Sometimes this job can be so repetitive.

I land on a building down the street, surveying the damage. The rhino must have ran straight down this street towards Times Square. Cars are upturned and the beast's foot marks are deep. Whoever or whatever this thing is, it's strong. Possibly stronger than anything I've ever come up against before. This is probably going to hurt. I hate that.

Oh well, the life of a superhero, right?

As I approach the square, a car flies through air towards me. My spider sense explodes, and I manage to evade by a hair, twisting back as the side grazes across my costume. Landing in the street, prone and ready for another attack, I call out to to the new guy on the block, "Hey, big boy! You a rhino, or is your nose just happy to see me?"

"Come on, bug," he says, looking over his shoulder, "dontcha recognize me?"



As the Rhino rumbles towards me, all I can mutter is, "Sytsevich?"

**********

Adrian Toomes soars through the air over New York city. The wings on his arms and the booster pack on his back work like a charm, allowing him to fly through the air with ease. The flight suit, his greatest invention, has always worked. None of the morons in the business fields ever thought so. This day he'd show them, however.

And he is going to do it by taking what is dear to them.