Enarr

Avengers: Heroes United!

Speaks with an accent. Your example of a mastermind was Loki, so I figured the Mastermind wouldn't be obscure. The fact that the attacks aren't American implies a sort of global awareness. The attack on the SHIELD safehouse for weapons makes me think of a military leader. Doctor Doom wouldn't need somebody else's supertech. So I figure Red Skull or Baron Zemo, but Skull's more prominent, so I guessed him.

Avengers: Heroes United!

But yeah, the Red Skull is the Mastermind, right?

Avengers: Heroes United!

This is a call to arms to all the players
To cut through the skull's evil onion of layers.
We've gotta answer the cries in Boston and Kingston
& make those villains question what they were thinking
When they tried to plunge the world into crisis
With their superpowers and death dealing devices.
We're sending their blueprints and designs to the blender!
They won't stand a chance when we assemble the Avengers!

Avengers: Heroes United!

Kingston, Jamaica
About Three Seconds Later

"Right behind ya', Captain!"

That hover bike is quick, alright. It's got enough giddyup to cross the ocean in only a few minutes. Given that he had crossed the sound barrier many times over, Murdock would've been flying entirely blind if it weren't for the onboard navigation systems that so helpfully volunteered to take him to the most dangerous locations in the world without half an hour of extraneous legal drivel. Onstar could learn a thing or two from SHIELD. But seemingly all at once, the noble machine drops it's anchor into the atmosphere and cools off to a comfortable 200 mph, cruising speed, and cheerfully tells Matt "You have arrived!"

The cockpits soundproof shell recedes into it's sheath before the warm ambient hum of the engine drowns in a din of gunfire and quantum entangled syllables. Matt cocks his head back and clicks his tongue off the roof of his mouth, like he's trying to loosen up some peanut butter. The soundwaves give a nice, clean picture of the surrounding area as the bike rolls at the decrepit pace of 40 mph. The safehouse was up ahead, only a football field's length away, with about two armored vans in positions ideally situated to take a real shot at him.

So Matt took a shot first, pouncing off of the hover bike and letting it fly at moderate acceleration towards the leftward threat. He covers his ears as the flying bike rolls the entire back half of the van into a harmless knot of reinforced metal panels and break lines. The minigunner backed off when his bucking weapon's foundation snapped in half. "Try firing that without breaking your wrist, I dare you!"

"Die! you self-sanctified dinosaur!" A reinforcement who was evidently taking it easy in the passenger seat barks out.

_PWOP!

If Skrillex were to sample the purring of a popcorn machine and work it into a bass drop, it would sound exactly like the weapon being fired in Matt's direction. The spot on the ground where the shot landed wasn't scorched or covered in any sort of residue, it looked fluffy and wet like merengue. Whatever that weapon was, it could scramble the molecules of it's target with the air around it. Perfect for omelettes, but good enough to take out a superhero in a pinch.

"I hate superheroes: all of you!" the criminal shouts as he aims to take another shot, hastily lining his sight up with the interlocking double-Ds.

At this point, the sonuvabitch on top of the other van finally finds the power to break off from his Facebook feed long enough to start shooting at the guy who just destroyed the van identical to their own. A couple of clicks and a couple of clacks came too little too late: Daredevil had dispatched the one with the fancy gun and smashed the driver's face into the windshield before throwing them both out of the van and into the dirty sand. Having just completely disabled the vehicles ability to be driven, you'd've thought it'd look silly to see the scarlet swashbuckler crawling around in there, until you saw him rip the four way tire iron out from under the seat and throw it your direction!

_SHNAKH!

The minigunner atop the far van succumed to the concussion inflicted by feeling his weapon pivot and snap against his forehead, the metal restraints that held it steady were in shambles and it's accuracy was melted to slag. By the time the driver had processed what had just happened, Daredevil was out of the car and on the ground, dashing and working his damn hardest to put a mile gap between that driver and his consciousness.

Kabam! Pow! Smack! The driver was pacified. If Matt Murdock had been a boxer like his old man, there's no way it would've taken more than a split second to break that nose Rocky Balboa was always braggin' about.

"Daredevil speaking: two more entrances clear. No way we're getting pinned down. I'm en route to your position!" At that, The Man Without Fear puts the pedal to the metal and cut the distance like butter. The boy in blue swells like a balloon on his radar sense as DD zeroes in on his fellow Avenger and Agent Woo. As Daredevil slides out of the driver's seat, the previous driver spills out of the open door, landing like a sack of potatoes, onto the ground.

Face to face, Daredevil spits a warning: "Careful, they've got really special guns", cracking the door, kicking it open and preemptively readying a billy club for a toss!

Titans: West Coast. (Teen Titans Roleplay)

Aztek

Name: Curtis Falconer
Alias: Aztek
Age: 17
Powers/Drawbacks: So you take this six year old kid, right? and you teach him how to box. He wins a fight against some kid a year older than him and you give him a pat on the back before telling him he did good but now he'd have to do that to Tezcatlipoca. The kid asks who that is, so you tell him that he's that guy's bigger, badder, uglier brother from space who's so mean that nobody wants to fight him because he's so big and strong and scary that even Mr. Sun (Mr. Golden Sun) is scared of him. The kid smiles: He's brave, defaultedly with the lionheart of a hero.

Unfortunately, dark gods of destruction aren't really scared of hearts, so you need to give him weapons. So you train him to fight like the only guy who's ever beaten Tezcatlipoca, Quetzalcoatl (AKA Mr. Q), channeling all of the power from Mr. Qs essence into a suit of armor designed both with sciencific and occultist principles in mind. It can draw, contain and harness fourth dimensional energy, primary that of Mr. Q himself, in order to facilitate functions like density control via lightning fast chemical reactions which can enable him to fly, achieve startling resilience, greatly exaggerate his physical strength and speed, or it can purge that energy in concentrated blasts of heat, plasma, electricity, or pure fourth dimensional energy (the most potent and fuel consuming option). His mask has a HUD that can toggle on and off, showing statistics about the suit itself, and can forgo the default display for a magical heat map like infrared vision, as well as a literal infrared functionality and basic communication assets with room for firmware and hardware updates.

The suits energy refills itself over time, though it can be recharged by acts of raw heroism (literally), being in proximity of a "magic user", absorbing energy from magically powered attacks/assists or metabolizing magically significant objects. Without any fourth dimensional energy in the suit, it's still a pretty sturdy & lightweight suit, but it gets really hot in there. When the power goes out, he still has a few simple tools like wire nets and can even produce tear gas and battons. Barring that, his combat training incorporates enough lessons in Muay Thai, Krav Maga and Judo to send the bullies packing.

Bio: A long time ago, Quetzalcoatl clashed against Tezcatlipoca in a battle whose stakes have been said to have been as simple as good fighting evil, and good triumphed, while Tezcatlipoca retreated. As a sign of favor towards his loyal followers, Quetzalcoatl allowed humans to borrow his strength to overpower the foul Tezcatlipoca whenever the dark god would return. So, in each generation, the followers of Quetzalcoatl would train a champion to house Q's power, outfitting them with cutting edge weaponry to match the hero's insides.

This generation it belongs to Curtis Falconer, a young medical student and child prodigy who resides in Vanity City who was privately schooled by the society with hopes of basically making him better than everyone else. Lots of reading assignments, squats, combat and technical training followed within the confines of a fenced off former bakery. His father had been the previous champion, but his death had always been explained as a curse inflicted by a servant of Tezcatlipoca.

Compelled by the tremendous amount of badness surrounding him, Curt decided to apply his power to stopping a supervillain by the name of The Piper, whose pipe bombs were evidently better made than the armor of Vanity's foremost vigilante, Bloodtype. Having failed to save Bloodtype, Curt felt it was only natural that he become a superhero proper. However, he found it challenging to know which battles to pick in the world, wondering when it was time to fight villains and when it was time to heal the sick. Around this time, the Q Society decided that he was unsuitable as a champion of Quetzalcoatl because of his new personal ambitions, but were simply unable to take the suit from him by any means thus far.

Not having heard from the Q Society for some time, he turned his attention to supervillains and gangsters, like Bloodtype's former sidekick gone psychopath Death-Doll. After having busted up a crew of Joker copycats and acolytes, he was contacted by Nightwing with the opportunity to receive intensive and personalized training and a place within the injured superhero community alongside fellow teenaged titans.

Avengers: Heroes United!

I feel like we should just show up to the Jamaican safehouse and just find everybody dead.

Avengers: Heroes United!

Okay, so Jamaica is a lost cause, given that it was a threat level 6 and it was introduced thirteen days ago, right? So the world's stability level should really be at fourteen, if I am understanding correctly. And if the X-Men's situation doesn't get resolved today, being a threat level 13, we'll lose thirteen points, meaning that the world's stability level will be at 1 tomorrow morning, right?

Avengers: Heroes United!

A Park That's Supposed To Be Serene
New York City

Cobblestone cobbled together by men long dead act as an ocean for a troubled man's soul to sail on. His muscles have a fresh ache to them, like he'd recently been pulverized by a butcher. Close, but he'd narrowly escaped having his painstakingly carved muscles reduced to cotton candy at the hands of a regular crook the previous night. No superpowers. No costume. Just a pickaxe and enough inexperience that the felon couldn't telegraph his moves like a better fighter would. Therefore the only thing distinguishing the scarlet swashbuckler from anyone else who ever underestimated a new guy was a split second of reaction time on a paranoid hunch.

One day the roads I cobble will be marched on by heroes and cowards, sheep and wolves alike. I'll be as dead as the dinosaurs I've personally slain in the Savage Land. And then… If Matt smoked cigarettes, he'd be taking a long drag off it, chain-smoking and probably thrashing like a madman. But because he didn't, never had, and probably never would, he just stopped breathing and squeezed his useless eyeballs like an evildoers throat.

He felt he'd been a better man at one time. He wished he had been that man long before circumstance bullied him into being. He hoped that one day he'd be that man again. All this business with ninjas and dragons and prophecy, concussions and neuropathy, sticks and stones, scarred flesh and broken bones. He wished it would just go away. And then he remembered that it would. It would go away: water under the bridge, not so unlike the literal water under the literal bridge he was approaching, where the stones cobbled in one man's time stopped, and the next began.

His pocket vibrated sharply. The time had come to save the world.

So, he ripped off his glasses and ran through the park, until he could find a street so crowded he was invisible. He tucked himself into an alleyway and ripped his clothes off his body like Elmer's Glue off a child's hands. Matt went in and something far more fearsome came out in a red flash, like a firework he grappled and reeled himself onto a vacant rooftop before answering the call. Summoning a SHIELD branded hover bike, he sets course for Jamaica , being swallowed in a glass cacoon as the vehicle rolls past Mach one, two, and three into the double digits, accelerating so relentlessly that Matt was convinced he'd be responsible for the next hurricane to harrass the Japanese people, giving even the most sinister butterfly the world had ever known competition.

Avengers: Heroes United!

Player Name:

Nightrunner

Character Name and Alias:

Daredevil (Matthew Murdock)

Origin and Brief Bio:

Raised by a deadbeat boxer in Hell's Kitchen, Matt had an alien code of chivalry baked into his bones by his father. After getting hit by a truck that traded his sight for superpowers, he was tutored by an old man named Stick in ninjutsu before losing his father to a local fight promoter's hitman. A few years later, this intolerable little pipsqueak blossomed into an even more intolerable vigilante and infamously unshakable obstacle to all local evildoers, superpowered or otherwise, stopping them by any means necessary.

Powers and Abilities:

In addition to a sharp legal mind and a bachelor's degree in badassery, Matt has super senses that overcompensate for his loss of sight, a jealousy inducing physique, and an aptitude for learning all methods of confrontation derived from his status as one of the generation's two adepts. If he spent the time he practices law professionally on combat training, he would have a decent shot at officially being the most formidable humanoid martial artist in the universe.

Brief Sample Post:

The Most Important Theater In The World
New York City

Four colors set the scene. You've got red, purple, balck and white. Daredevil's standing stage left, his billy club shining with that brilliant red brain juice from slapping Zebediah Killgrave across the face like a red-headed stepchild. Matt knew all about beating stepchildren thanks to his time practicing law professionally. All of the red bleeds, if you'll forgive the pun, from Daredevil's shadow and spills onto the kneeling supervillain at his feet.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you that this one wasn't my idea?" he asks with bright yellow eyes, whose black bloodshot veins communicated a remorse that the crimson avenger had never seen before (and of course never would, on account of bein' blind n' all). "All right, we've literally done this at least a dozen times by now, red man," the mauve menace howled. "This part of the story tends to go the same way every time, so with no further adieu," the Purple Man rolls on his side and calls to the audience, "Kill Daredevil!"

An army of winos and egalitarian meat puppets rose out of their seats before clumsily rolling over each other like a tide destined to impact on the stage. Thinking on his feet, Matt seizes Killgrave's hair and uses the impromptu handle to draw him to his feet before holding the man in front of his body and laying a hand across his face. "Say a word besides what I tell you, and I start pulling my strings, Pinocchio."

Killgrave's power did not actually come from any quality of his voice, otherwise Matt would also be trying to "kill Daredevil", it was a response to the perpendicular stimuli of his pheromones, which Matt was not immune to, and his entrancing purple skin. He felt Killgrave's larynx growl as he prepared to desperately make a final command. So Matt rips a lock of hair out like a lawnmower's pullstring, making the grown man howl like a Honda before passing out. So Murdock slips his fingers around The Purple Man's lips and began to cast his voice, "On second thought, don't kill Daredevil! In fact disregard anything else I've told you and if I ever tell you to do anything again, you should all just take it upon yourselves to beat the living shit out of me without paying any heed to my newer commands."

It worked! The audience withdrew from the stage's threshold and looked at each other confusedly before exploding into applause, casting the three handkerchiefs they evidently owned along with uproarious praise for the piece of art that they had just had the pleasure of living through. So at that, Daredevil takes a bow and lets go of Killgrave's hair, but on the way down the vigilante bunts Killgrave's forehead like he's launching a soccer ball made of lead.

DC Unlimited

@Nightrunner You took half the Outsiders off the board with her backstory. I'd give you one or two of them, but not three. Choose one and cut them just to leave more options for potential new recruits. If that's cool she's accepted but you'd have to clear your arc with @Lord Wraith in your story arcs section.

@Omega Man

Done & evidently done.