Byrd Man

Guardians of Infinity

<Snipped quote by Byrd Man>

Ha. That's funny.

...cause LBJ had a huge head.

@Ruby

If you read your history,it seems he had two big heads.

Guardians of Infinity

So, someone not currently in the game sent me a PM, and it began thusly:

"I would for the record like to state that Byrd Man deserves an Oscar for his work."

Would that I could give Byrd an Oscar, yet alas, I can no. =/

BUT...

For your outstanding work so far, Byrd Man, I present to you the inaugural Quackie award for posts and posting that go above and beyond the height of any water fowl:

@Ruby

YOU LIKE ME! YOU REALLY LIKE ME!

And I got the same PM too. You folks are gonna give me a big(ger) head.

Guardians of Infinity

Howard ran his fingers through the feathers on his head and smiled at the Greek demigod.

"Herc, hate to Quackblock you like this but we need your help. More importantly, the world and the entire universe need your help."

Howard jumped onto the table and held on the lapels of his jacket and padded across the table as he spoke.

"Now we are engaged in a great cosmic war, testing whether that a dude, or any group of dudes so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war by jerks. We here highly resolve that these dudes here shall not die in vain— that this group of dudes, under some weird ass cosmic being, shall have a new birth of awesomeness—and that these dudes fighting for the babes, to get the babes, and keep the babes, shall not perish from this reality!"

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

"Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods."
-- Alfred, Lord Tennyson

London
March 20th, 2005
01:34 Local Time

The loud, digital tone of his telephone ringing woke George Smiley up from his slumber. He'd been asleep for nearly four hours at that point, dragging himself off to bed after nodding off just before the news started. He always liked to stay up and watch whatever happened over the course of the day. He had no computer here, no internet connection, so the morning paper and nightly news were his only links to the world at large. He liked it that way. He was retired, after all.

George groped across the nightstand until he found the phone. He answered it without turning on the light or trying to find his glasses.

"Hullo?" He said sleepily into the phone.

"George Smiley. This is Nick Fury."

George blinked sleep out of his eyes and tried to comb through the thick haziness of sleep as he recalled that name. Nick Fury... a ghost from the past indeed. Almost fifteen years since he had even thought of the man. It was--

"Turkey in 1989," Fury said. "Operation Sidecar."

"Yes, I remember," said George. "Nicholas... what the devil is this all about?"

"Men are coming to your flat, George. Members of the US Embassy. They have strict orders to escort you to Heathrow and board a plane to the states. They're doing so under my orders."

A cold sensation coursed through George's stomach and worked its way to the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. Why would Americans be coming for him? And why would he be given a warning by the man ordering to take him? This wasn't a usual black bag job, those covert kidnappings every intelligence officer lived in fear of. This was...

"What is this all about, Nicholas?"

"You haven't seen the news. HYDRA's back and kicking our asses."

That cold sensation increased. George joined the Circus as HYDRA's power was waning, but he knew enough to know exactly what kind of threat they could pose to world security if they were indeed back in full force.

"The shit has hit the fan here states side," Fury continued. "My boss is dead, killed in a HYDRA attack, and I'm now the head of SHIELD... and I need help."

"Oh, no..."

"Yes," Fury said, George could picture the smirk on his face. "By the power invested in me by the United States government, I appointed you Special Consultant of Intelligence. Pending congressional approval, you'll be made a deputy director."

"Nicholas, I did not ask for this. I am retired. I am--"

"Getting on that plane in the next hour and we'll discuss it when you touch down in D.C. See you then, George."

Smiley cursed as the line went dead.

--

The Triskelion
Washington D.C.
March 20th, 2005
08:33 Local Time

George stifled a yawn as guards led him through the facility towards the director's office. The flight across the ocean was quick, but a military cargo plane is hardly the place to sleep. He wore the clothes from the day before, rumpled and soiled, and his hair was unkempt with a hint of salt and pepper stubble on his jaw.

"George," Nick Fury said as George walked into the office.

"We've got an assignment for you already."

"Nicholas, please. I'm retired. I hate to come all this way to turn you down, but--"

Fury stared at George with his one remaining eye. The old soldier pulled a cigar from his jacket and lit it up. He waited until he had taken a long puff on it and exhaled a cloud of smoke before talking.

"HYDRA is back, people are dying, and we have SHIELD assets in danger across the world. If we do not act quickly, more people will die. What I'm asking of you will be demanding and will involve potentially days without sleep, but it's a chance to do work again, George. I know about your falling out with MI6, and I know how you are. I'm not offering a job, I'm offering a chance to live again. But if you don't want it, there's the door."

George looked back at the door, and then towards Fury. George thought of his flat back in London. He lived alone, his wife divorcing him after the mess with Bill Haydon. He had very little interaction day to day with anyone other than the man who ran a newsstand down the street from his flat. The consequence of living a life dedicated to work was that there was no life there once work went away.

"Where do you need me?" He asked Fury.

"We need to shore up our undercover agents and assets across the globe and make sure none of them are in danger from HYDRA. That's phase one. Phase two is simple: We take the goddamn fight to them. We'll get you set up with a security clearance and an office, and we'll start working with the Senate to see what we can do to make this job permanent. Okay? Good!"

A guard escorted George out from Fury's office and he was left wondering what the hell had exactly happened?

--

Triskelion
March 20th, 2005
13:23 Local Time

"Ride of the Valkyries is a go."

The young intelligence officer in the Triskelion drone command center leaned forward in his chair and pushed the joystick in his hands down. On the screen in front of him, the broad and rocky landscape of Yemen appeared through the clouds. The view on the screen was provided by a small camera mounted on the back of an MQ-1 Predator Drone, the joystick in the young man's hands controlled the Predator. Since 2001, the Predator and it's sister drone, the Reaper, were the main weapons the US intelligence and military complex used in their war on terrorism.

The Predator could move in and out of countries quickly and quietly stay in the air for fourteen hours at a time before delivering its payload of two Hellfire missiles at the chosen target. It wasn't as risky as sending in special operators in a covert mission, nor was it as messy and as loud as any other ground forces. Afghanistan and Iraq had been invaded with battalions and thousands of men, war there being fought the way of the sledgehammer. The war in Yemen was being waged with Predators and Reapers and precise surgical strikes, the way of the knife.

SHIELD's knife was pointed in the direction of Abu Al-Hammani. Hammani, an upper-level member of the Wahhabi terrorist group the Sixth Pillar, was on their list because of the Brits. MI6 wanted him dead due to masterminding an attempted suicide bombing in Kenya three years ago. Hammani fled the country but kept plotting more and more Jihadist plots. Eventually, the law of averages of stated that he would get one right and kill countless human lives. For both SHIELD and Six, this could not stand.

The younger officer pressed a button on the iPod beside him and Wagner filled the room, Ride of the Valkyries blasting from the small speakers mounted around his console. Phillip Coulson was the supervising agent in charge of the mission, and he watched almost stoically from behind the drone operator. When the song came on, he couldn't help but crack a small smile at the choice of music.

"That was done sarcastically, you know," he said matter of factly. "In Apocalypse Now, they used that song to make you want to identify the US with the Nazis, not for you to get all pumped up for killing."

"Never seen the movie," the young man said.

Coulson rolled his eyes and checked a computer next to the monitor displaying the drone's progress. A satellite in orbit above Yemen had a bead on Hammani's cellphone. The satellite relayed coordinates to D.C. and the drone operator followed them towards their end goal.

"I've got eyes on a vehicle," the drone operator said excitedly. "No, three vehicles... black Land Rovers."

Coulson leaned forward and furrowed his brow. That didn't match up with the intel they had on Hammani. It said he would be riding in a beaten white utility van. From the look of the Land Rovers on the screen, they were brand new and part of a convoy or entourage.

"I'm aborting this," said Coulson. "Pull off and start in a circling pattern, and for God's sake turn off that damn music..."

The loud operatic thundering of Wagner disappeared in an instant. The operator pulled back on the joystick before he tried again, this time harder and more urgent. He looked back at Coulson with a panicked look on his face.

"It's not responding... I can't... I can't control it."

"Pull it off right now," Coulson snapped. "Do it or so help me--"

"I can't! It's going on it's own!"

Both men looked on in horror as the drone flew in closer and closer towards the speeding convoy of cars. A signal flashed on the screen that the Predator's safety was off and it was ready to fire. On its own, the drone shot its two Hellfire missiles out at the fleeing cars. the first destroyed the lead Range Rover in a ball of flames, the second hit between the second and third cars and blew them off the road and into flaming wrecks. The two stunned on agents watched as the drone dove down into the ground. The feed crackled with static and a message written in bold letters.

THE PRICE FOR FASCISM IS ETERNAL ENSLAVEMENT!
HEIL HYDRA!!!!

"What does that mean?" the young officer asked Coulson.

"I have no idea... except I do know one thing. We're both fucked."

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

*sigh*

So, moving on. Dutch certainly has brought up some decent points and I'm tired so I don't know where I completely stand.

@Gowi

If you guys want me to withdraw its fine. I said that I knew he was barely in a comic book before I even started working on my CS.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

<Snipped quote by Byrd Man>

Why not both? He barely appears and is barely what you call a character. That he's a reference to George Smiley is likely, but it's not confirmed. So he's George, M's secretary.

And let's not call this is a stir. I'm just voicing my opinion - and without support at that. So again, I'm fine with whatever outcome. I certainly don't want to hinder you in the story you want to tell.

@Agent Orange

So much for assembling the Literary Avengers.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

<Snipped quote by Gowi>

He's George, M's secretary, that's the character. All the Le Carré stuff is ultimately conjecture. George Smiley is not in any real way, shape or form a comics character. And I'm fine with whatever you want, really. It's just my nature as a nosy, contrary son of a bitch to say: aren't you opening the gates a little too far? 'Comics' is in the title of the RPG for a reason.

@Agent Orange

It's not so much the character, it's the lack of appearances in comics? By that rule, I could play Bilbo Baggins because there's Hobbit graphic novels. I just think it depends on how well the character fits into the world. As long as it's not too out there (looking at you, manga) then it should be good to go. I didn't realize a middle-aged desk jockey would cause such a stir.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

Center City, WA
10:30 AM

Tracy sat in his car and watched the comings and goings at the deli. Belyakov's Delicatessen served as the base of operations for Center City's ROC contingent. Russian Organized Crime moved into Center City about five years ago and had been spreading its tentacles ever since. They started in LA after the Cold War ended and the Russian Mafyia consolidated power in the former USSR. Like a snake, they slithered up the west coast through the big cities until they arrived in Center City. Hyde watched their movements with a wary eye. For now, ROC paid up like the rest of them but they were growing stronger each day. Time would come that Hyde would have to cut them down.

If Tracy's information was good, that time appeared to be now. The names Ricky Fat gave Tracy all matched members of ROC, the number he dialed last night was that of Belyakov's Deli. It appeared to Tracy that ROC committed an unsanctioned kidnapping in Center City. If Tracy knew Hyde like he thought he did, there was only one solution to this problem. But that would come afterward. For now, getting Linda Flynn back safely was priority one.

--

11:22 AM

"And you're sure about this, Tracy?"

"As sure as I can be."

Thomas Flynn leaned forward in his chair and spread his arms along the rich wood surface of his desk. Tracy saw the gears in his head turning, he could practically hear what Flynn was thinking. Which is why it was no surprise what he said next.

"I don't want to pay the ransom," he said softly. "I love my daughter, I do... but her stupidity and weakness has cost so much. If daddy keeps bailing her out, she'll keep doing it again and again. She needs to pull herself up by her own bootstraps."

Tracy's neutral look did not betray the thoughts he had in his head. He used to think Sebastian Hyde was a cold son of a bitch, but now Thomas Flynn was the standard bearer when it came to that regard. Teeg Lawless had been an abusive, hateful man, but if Tracy or his brother Ricky had been kidnapped, Teeg would have moved heaven and earth to get his boys back. He wouldn't leave his sons to the wolves, and he certainly try to justify it with bullshit conservative rhetoric.

"Who runs these Russians?" Flynn asked.

"Konstantin Belyakov. He owns the deli where they congregate at and a half dozen other front businesses in the city."

"Does he work for... you employer?"

"Not exactly," Tracy said with a shrug. "He pays a cut to my boss like everyone else does, but he doesn't work for anyone but himself."

"Tracy," Flynn said slowly. "These people will be calling me within the hour with ransom demands. They want five million dollars that I don't want to give to them... but what if we had something they wanted?"

--

12:10 PM

Tracy's charger raced down the street towards the Phillips Park. Plenty of families were out and about in the noon hour. Inside his car he had two of Flynn's security guards, wearing plainclothes and masks. Tracy didn't wear one. He wanted them to know who he was. He jumped the curb and rode on the sidewalk. People scattered and ran for cover as Tray skidded on the grass beside a swing set.

He and the men jumped out of the car and headed towards the swing set. Two men by the swings were reaching for something in their jackets, but were stopped when the two guards smacked them across the face with nightsticks. They kept beating the bodyguards while Tracy scooped a young boy up off the swings and pushed the woman beside the boy down into the dirt.

"Tell Belyakov now we have something he wants," he said coldly. "If Linda Flynn dies, we fucking kill his son."

The woman screamed bloody murder as Tracy shoved the confused kid into the backseat. She called for help when Tracy and the other men climbed into the car and sped off with the boy in the backseat calling for his mother in Russian.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

George Smiley was in a comic?

@Agent Orange

That's why I was asking if it was okay.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

<Snipped quote by Byrd Man>

| Identity |
Ric Flair, better known as “The Nature Boy” or “Slick Rick”

| Origin & Backstory |
Flair was born in Memphis, Tennessee and adopted by German-American parents before settling in Minnesota. Flair excelled in athletics at school and eventually earned a scholarship to Minnesota University where he would letter in wrestling. One evening whilst working as a bouncer in Minnesota a chance meeting with the Greek god Hercules would set Flair on a path that would change his life. The drunken Hercules challenged Flair to a wrestling match for all of St. Paul to see and Flair managed to unseat Hercules for a few seconds, a feat no man has matched before or since, which earned the Prince of Power’s admiration. Buoyed by this great victory Flair would go on to become the greatest super-wrestler the world had ever seen.

| Attributes |
Being a styling, profiling, limousine riding, jet flying, kiss stealing, wheeling and dealing son of a son.

| Character Notes |
Sometimes has trouble holding his alligators down.

| Character Goals |
To take every last one of you pretty little things to Space Mountain and back. Provided you're eighteen and over.

| References |

@Morden Man

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!