Enarr

Avengers: Heroes United!

Two hours and three minutes 'til chaos.

Avengers: Heroes United!

That man died so that we all may live. (& Yes)

Avengers: Heroes United!

I see where you're coming from, but to be honest, I really love this game. Plus, you already have it set up so that if we lose momentum, the game ends itself with the world sinking into a quagmire of chaos. Even if you choose not to run another one like this, I would really love to finish this one out. We never finish stuff. And it's been so long since it felt like we were playing together instead of just writing next to each other.

Avengers: Heroes United!

Kingston, Jamaica
Exactly Where We Left Off

"Aye aye, Captain. It's too bad we don't have any allies with teleportation or fast travel capabilities onhand. No," he pauses, imagining himself taking a drag off a cigarette, "then it would be too damn easy. We'll have to make do with what we've got for now."

He swept the building with his echolocation, lapping up more of that imaginary peanut butter. No signs of life: Damn. As he saw it, he had two options. One: Investigate the buildings insides to find valuable clues and evidence of who was behind this. Or Two: Risk security of this evidence by moving on to the next safehouse in spite of the fact that stragglers were unlikely to be found, because there is a colossally infinitesimal chance that they could technically be found.

"There's a safehouse about three miles north from where you're at," Coulson updates him. "I've got an unstable satellite image. It looks like there are fewer outside of this one than the one that you're at right now. Pretty convenient, huh?"

"Too convenient. Damn near provident."

I guess it's time to save the day. Daredevil collects the unconscious militants like trading cards before throwing them into the back of their own van like dodgeballs that don't want to bounce. He disarms them individually and collects their arsenal in the passenger seat. Then, to make sure none of them wake up and try anything effective, he floats over them, as they sleep like tired children (who've been beaten into submission), and he holds their hands in his own before pulling their fingers uncomfortably far back. So much so that Matthew the Catholic felt bad for them, especially when he heard that devastating crunch of things coming undone. He shuddered, but hey: The devil made him do it, right?

So he slams the back door shut and climbs back behind the wheel before making the wheels of the truck go round and round. Occasionally a few of the men would wake up and start crying about how he hadn't signed up for this and how shocking it was that Daredevil could call himself a hero. Then Matt would pull over, tell whoever was whining that he had signed up for all this and more when he decided to break international laws, and make sure he had internalized all this before knocking the crybaby out with his own broken fingers. After a demonstration or two, they'd learned to shut up.

On the way, one of the militants got curious and he began to whisper frantically to his comrades. They stopped when the wheels on the truck were no longer going round and round. The air filled with tension and the pungent smell of fresh piss. Then something else entered the truck, a question. A valid one: "Where are we going?"

"To Hell! Bwa ha ha ha haha ha haha haha!"

Daredevil laughed maniacally as he threw his arms dramatically forward, suffocating the gas pedal underfoot and swerving all across the dirt road, diving into pot holes and soaring over hills. At that, Daredevil twists his neck like an owl to stare at his unfastened passengers and growls like a banshee: "Tell me who you work for and I'll let you out of the truck!"

"Eek!" the collective squeals. "The boss'll kill us!"

"We're driving seventy miles an hour on a dirt road. Intentionally or not, I'll kill you!" Then, he laughs again, "And I'll let you in on a little secret: I can't see where I'm going! Ah ha haha haha hahahaaughff! It's a miracle I haven't crashed. And your delicious little screams, well, they're only making it harder for me to drive."

Then he hears it, one of them opens his mouth and his heart flutters with truthfulness. He pushes his tongue against his lower lip before being head-butted by his comrade. They both bleed and scream and fight amongst themselves, but if they were going to do anything that would progress the plot, they were taking way too long. As he pulls over, he checks in on the Star Spangled Superhero, "What's it like on your end, Cap?"

Then, he slinks around the van to say one last thing to his little angels: "Looks like we've arrived at the next safehouse, boys. Daddy's got to go inside," with a sinister smile and lots of teeth exposed, he nods and giggles "so it's Nnnnnap Time!"

Avengers: Heroes United!

The pace always slumps after five minutes, I know. I think we gotta work to fix our slow pace, though. Certainly one of us has the time to post each day.

Avengers: Heroes United!

Maybe staggering more low level threats would be more conducive to goading us into posting faster instead of going "Oh, a threat level 13. We've got two weeks to take care of that." But I think having only one encounter at a time would kill some of the fun.

Avengers: Heroes United!

Depending on whether Ink posts I can possibly squeeze out two posts tonight.

Titans: West Coast. (Teen Titans Roleplay)

Curtis Falconer was better know to the world as Aztek, a golden & white superhero who basically seemed to be effective at going round after round with edgier, more generally dangerous super-people, both heroes and villains. It had been a couple weeks since he'd been to the tower or spoken with most of the team, but his adventures in hometown Vanity City left him the slightest bit cynical. I swear to the Judeo-Christian God that if one of the new recruits has the words Blood, Death or Kill in their codename, we're going to have problems.

He struts up poolside in white and gold trunks, keeping with his usual color scheme. Beast Boy, by default of course, had done the same. While two girls, each with Star in their names, chatted poolside, Curt felt like making good use of the time, manufacturing memories he'd later cherish. One could say he had the spirit, but not the feeling . So he slumped into the water at the deep end before regulating himself to float. The water was cooler than anticipated.

"Hey Bee Bee! I bet I can hold my breath underwater longer than you can!"

Invitingly, he pulled his hand and forearm to his face, waving like he was frantically trying to kill a housefly. He wondered if there were mosquitos at this altitude. If nothing else, slaying the bloodsuckers like the foul demons they were would make a perfectly fine past time if nothing else come of this poolside business.

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!

So how many posts do we need tonight to resolve Jamaica before losing six stability points?

Inkarnate, Jones, and myself all have posts where we saddle up. I imagine those don't count towards mitigating damage or our goal of 6 posts. Jones has two posts of attacking the base and working on a plan to move forward and I have one. I imagine that counts as three because determining how we will secure the safehouse is a step towards saving the world. So that means that Kingston is saved if each of us post again once tonight, right?

Also, do I get to make up what Coulson tells Daredevil and does it matter what I say is inside/outside any given safehouse, or do I need to wait for a GM post for those?

Edit: The Bostonians are just SOL.