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What's the worst thing about the Roleplayerguild and why is it the status bar?
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<Snipped quote by Ezekiel>

Works being work but my first day off is Monday so it'll be done then to a logical point where you could get going


No worries, left the ending of my post vague just so whatever you write can fit into it.

Wanted to make a bit of a reference to an iconic Carol cover in my post, I imagine it's fairly obvious.


Beverly, Massachusetts




"You're running low." Carol barely look at her dad as she passed him an open beer, entrenched as he was in his favourite chair in their lounge. She paused briefly to clink the glass of her own against his, bringing the bottle up to her mouth to click the cap off with her teeth. She'd seen some of the guys do it at a party recently, amused at the idea; it was a way for her to use her powers in public without giving it away, the slightest spark of energy from her tooth connecting hidden away.

"Maybe you should stop drinking them then." Joe Danvers spoke in his persistent grumble, providing even less recognition of his daughter than he had received, his eyes not moving from the beginning of ESPN's Friday Night Showcase. At first he just recieved a snort of contempt in return as Carol's own attention drifted to the start of the broadcast, but she spoke as she turned away and headed back to the kitchen.

"When you don't need me to get them for you, I'll stop taking my tax." She used to loathe the idea of drinking, seeing what it did to her father, she still loathed his drinking, but she couldn't at least deny the appeal any longer. The use of her powers and the relevant combat often left her with aches and pains that didn't show on her largely impervious body, and the taste of cold, albeit cheap, beer was already working against that.

Usually her Friday evenings would be spent in support of her own school's football program, but they were on a bye and for once she was quite thankful for the reprieve. Obviously most of her classmates, at least the ones that mattered, were using the opportunity to attend Corey Brown's party. A large and parent-free home on a bye week was like a flame to a moth for the football team. She'd told her friends she wouldn't be coming, but as it happened, she'd somewhat overestimated just how long being a living weapon and/or hero for the government was going to take out of her evening. She wasn't too thrilled at the idea of spending time getting ready, but she was less thrilled at the idea of spending an evening alone with her father. She paused only to grab a donut from the gradually vanishing supply on the kitchen table as she made her way upstairs and into the solace of her room.

Carol never had guests over, for a variety of reasons, and so her room remained one of the places less cultivated in the image of the young woman she had become and more the girl she had been. The walls were decked with posters of bands she had listened to with her brothers, photographs and artistic renderings of planes past and present and even a few pieces of art she had taken a liking to. Her desk was stacked with notebooks, each used to the full with her own writing and journaling. Only her wardrobe really spoke to the idea of head-cheerleader Carol, and even that still had a few exceptions. When she swung open the overstocked furniture, the presence of her old pilot's jacket drew her eyes first, a long pause, before she began pulling options for the night from their hangers to appraise.

There was something of a stereotype about taking forever to decide on clothing, but this wasn’t an issue with Carol. As with many things in life, she was decisive. The only times she wasn’t would be entirely for performative reasons among groups of friends where such things were expected. It was only a few moments before she had decided, the central piece, a white floral-print mini-sundress with a smocked bodice and bubble hem which trailed halfway down her thighs, with just a short gap before the top of knee-high suede Western boots. It was a little Southern belle for the East coast, but what was the point of being young, blonde and tan if you weren’t going to rock it? She paused before the mirror for a few test swishes of the dress, turning to examine the back before giving herself a bit of a pep talk.

“If I do say so myself, I look grrrrrrreat.” She laughed slightly, grabbing her phone from her desk where she had just been applying makeup before thumbing her way through her contacts, scanning for a lift she could secure at this later hour.

“Hey, it’s Carol, can you-"

Later




By the time Carol arrived, the signs of a party in full swing could be heard well before it could be seen. As with many of the more prominent members of the student body, Corey’s house was impressively large for a suburb of Boston, an ideal gathering place. The scope of these places was one of many reasons Carol never had even her closest friends over to her house; at least this way, she could pretend to be one of them.

She was hardly dressed for subtlety as she arrived, but she didn’t attempt to draw any further attention to herself as she moved inside, the bass rumble of the music passing through her in waves, a sensation she was so much more aware of now that her very being was interwoven with the fundamental forces of the universe. A few faces clocked her right away as she moved through the house, particularly an eager junior who handed her a solo cup with something which at least seemed cold beer adjacent. She offered a distinctly cool thanks in return, which was still enough to elicit some excitement from the younger student, even as she continued her progress. She'd been to Corey's a couple of times before and knew the main event was the outside pool.

"Oh look at you that is so boho western." She heard Michael well before she saw him, offering him a quick post before leaning in for the kiss to her cheek that he always greeted her with when he'd had a drink or two (or five). "So you could make it then? Wonderful, this was getting a little sigma-grindset for my liking." Michael wafted a hand around at the increasing number of party-goers she noticed wearing some variation of the Beverly High Panthers football attire mixed with party-suitable clothing.

"Keep up, Michael, these are high-performance alpha males, far too team orientated to be sigmas." She laughed in jest at her friend's eyeroll. "It's our job to be supportive, go team, remember." She teased further. Of all the friends that made up the circle of people that she spent time with, Michael came closest to what she might consider a true friend, although she could never be sure if that was anything more than surface level. Would their long-running friend-mistry mean anything if she wasn't on top anymore?

The paranoid claws in her heart trembled for a few moments more before she turned to regard the pool and patio where most of the party guests could now be found. The relative chill of the evening was little match for teenage adrenaline and beer jackets as several had already ended up in the heated waters of the pool.

"Corey's going to be mad, but only cause he bet it would take at least another twenty minutes." A new voice broke Carol's momentary spell of worries. Kyle Briggs was tall and even more tan and blonde than Carol was. He was from the West Coast and was a large part of the Panthers current success on the Football field. He'd had a pretty obvious thing for her for at least a month, which was practically pining for years in starting quarterback terms.

"Well, that was a stupid bet to make. Definitely a 'I grew up with a pool' sort of thinking." Carol's tone was a practiced half-husky she used when she was a little undecided between friendly and flirty, turning slightly towards Kyle. She felt Michael slink away on the other side of her. Of course her friends hadn't stopped encouraging her to run with Kyle's clear interest in her, especially before someone else could 'swoop in' and prevent the obvious Prom King and Queen pairing. She knew what people like Kyle were like though, beneath the charms and smiles. She'd done pretty well for herself not letting people through the walls she'd built up since moving to Beverly and wasn't desperate to even play at letting them down.

"That's what I said, guess the novelty has worn off for him." Kyle grinned at her words and laughed, probably performatively, but it was still almost a surprise he even got the implication. She'd naturally presumed the future whatever star star prospect from California would hardly be strapped for lived luxuries himself.

She finished off her first beer as they spoke, and he was attentive enough to immediately offer to find her another which she readily agreed to. For all her misgivings about emotional connections and the dangers of inebriation for that, she craved the at ease feeling a few drinks gave her. While the team quarterback was away a few others approached her. Kelly was keen to impress on her the need to pursue Kyle or 'she' would, other members of the cheer team offering their obligatory greetings and a few other students for a variety of reasons. It took Kyle a little longer than she would have liked to return, even if she didn't exactly crave his company either. Already dread clawed at her that everything was some big set-up for a joke she wasn't apart of, before a charming grin entered her vision.

"Sorry, Corey needed some helping chasing off some freshmen."

"Ew, shouldn't they be in bed?" A dismissive look touched her features, channelling the figure of hierarchical authority the world considered her to be.

"Exactly, don't worry, they won't be crashing anything further." She didn't entirely miss the look of grim amusement on Kyle's features that had nothing to do with a conversation with a girl he liked and she felt a flicker of guilt. If she started caring about everyone being chased out of parties though, she'd probably start running out of friends again.

"So, what's Cali like? My brother was posted out there -"

Later Still




"CALIFORNIA GIRLS WERE UNDENIABLE-"

Ok, maybe she was DRUNK drunk. She must have been, scream-singing the lyrics with Kelly and another two girls she hadn't bothered to recall the names of as some of the still-standing football players watched and laughed. The patio had turned into something of a dancefloor by the late hour and she and Kelly had been 'insistent' on the playing of the vintage Katy Perry song.

"Does that make you hoooomesick, Kyle?" Kelly winked as she spoke to the Quarterback, almost draped across him as the group descended into giggles. Carol's eyes narrowed, and she felt a bit of smug satisfaction even through the beer haze as he pushed her aside. Just because she wasn't playing along didn't mean she had decided she was ready to let anyone else enjoy the social capital.

"You're all crazy." Kyle laughed, a sound quickly echoed by the other football players still on the 'dance floor' in a manner which reminded Carol of the gaggle of student-parrots usually hanging on her words. She was about to request a new song when a buzz in her hear stopped her dead.

"Operative Warbird, Code-Gold, you are required."

Damn

She'd been pretty insistent her handlers couldn't keep calling her out of her life, although they'd never exactly agreed to that. Given she'd flown a mission for them today she was probably still 'on the clock' though.

Double Damn

Her powers weren't exactly diminished by inebriation, but she probably shouldn't rock up a complete mess to a secret government facility, she might just fly straight through the mountain. She was pretty certain a fuller trigger of her haptic powers might far outpace alcohol's ability to muddle her senses, but she'd never actually proven that.

Time to experiment.

"Hey, Corey, can you teach me how to block," She managed to hide the panic in her voice, entirely hidden in the drunk musings of a very silly girl.

"Uh...I could? Might not be a good idea though." Corey was the centre, and as far as team linemen went, a pretty chill guy by her estimations. He was also roughly the same size as a small vehicle.

"Pllleeeeease, I bet I could manage." She allowed her skirt to swish as she asked, an adorable-annoying trailing of her voice that tended to work on most for a wide variety of reasons.

"Alright...if you're sure."

....

Carol hit the ground hard enough that she bounced on the expensive tiles of the patio. She felt it immediately, the surge of her powers as it converted the force she was struck with into energy within her. The biological reactor that was her body, taking both the impact of Corey blocking her and the strike to the ground into a burst of power she had trouble making sure it didn't spark into reality. It worked as intended, though, the pulse shot through her system like a battery shock, ridding her mind of the befuddlement of inebriation in a moment.

She sprang up in the next moment, entirely missing the concerned gasp of shock from most as the Cheer-captain had hit the deck with enough force to risk a popped shoulder.

"Thanks Corey! That was fun, gotta dash!" She spoke in a blur as she ran off past a bunch of startled faces, even as the lineman himself rubbed a shoulder that he didn't know would bruise something fierce over the next few hours.

"Dude....I think Carol should be our new fullback."
We're out here claiming whole cities now?

This is the greed they write about in the Bible.

PS

Working on a bit of a high school drama filler post to set up Carol getting the call to help a Beetle punch some aliens.
Realized that there were a few elements that I think I could add that would help connect my next Jason post to the larger world.

Any objections to introducing the following concepts as existing at least by 2013: Mutant Registration Act (introduced, not passed) and the Friends of Humanity (one version at least, as a Political Action Committee)

And any objection if I add Sammy Pare to my list for Jason?

Going into the Douglas Carmody story, his main motivation in the comics for attacking children was the belief that they were mutants, so I'm wanting to flesh that out some more if it can add to people's stories and not intrude on them.

Tagging @Stormyx @mickilennial and @Terry Bogard as our mutant writers, but the question is really for anyone/everyone.


I am all for anything that sets me up for some moral questions for Carol being the state sponsored super person.
Do you think we could maybe add to our sheets, or somewhere a place with some of the side characters everyone is using?

I don't want to accidentally tread on anyone's toes - and it would also be good to see just from a crossover perspective.

I briefly used Jessica Jones in my intro post.


I also briefly used a Jessica in a flash back, but this was meant to be Jessica Drew, however ambiguous enough that should someone want to play her before I get to her being relevant again it wouldn't 'have' to be her.
<Snipped quote by Ezekiel>

Want to fight some aliens? 😉


That definitly does sound like some Project Warbird was designed to do!
Smells like Teen Spirit Warbird Post 1 done

PS:

I swear I used to not find writing posts of my phone so aggravating, maybe thats a getting old thing haha.


Five Years Ago




The class poured out in a burst of energy. Some tore off toward the tetherballs, others scrambled up the bars, while a few drifted across the blacktop, still weighing their options. Carol lagged at the back, her pace slowing as she twisted her fingers together. Around her, clusters of classmates formed with ease, their voices rising in shouts and laughter that filled the air. The sun beat down on her shoulders as she stepped hesitantly into the playground, uncertain where to go or whether anyone wanted her there.

It was always the same.

The girls huddled in small circles, giggling and trading whispers. The boys shouted across the playground, tossing balls and scrambling over the climbing bars. A few children lounged on the grass, absorbed in trinkets they had secretly brought from home. Everywhere Carol looked, someone belonged to someone else. She lingered at the edge, shuffling her feet as a tight knot coiled in her stomach. She hated recess. She should have stayed inside to colour or write in her journal. But she wanted to be seen. She wanted someone to notice her. She did not want to be forgotten.

Her eyes drifted toward Mary Johnson and a few of the other girls in class, their hair always perfectly styled, their outfits looking so effortless and cool. Why couldn’t she look like them? Carol smoothed her hands down her knee-length skirt. Her dad had refused to buy her anything new, what the other girls considered fashionable. For a moment she hugged her arms to herself, feeling the texture of her replica aviation jacket for comfort. Her brother had bought it for her when he had joined the Air Force and these days the memory was a comfort to her, but now she felt silly in it.

She swallowed hard, licking her lips, and forced herself forward. “Hi,” she said, her voice barely steady. The girls stopped talking and looked at her, their expressions flat. Carol gestured toward Mary’s hand. “I like your nail polish.” She didn’t, really. Green grossed her out, but her brother had always said compliments helped make friends, her dad was never nice like that, and as far as she could tell he didn’t have any friends. Mary gave a small scoff, clearly embarrassed to be seen talking to her. She exchanged a look with her friends. Carol felt the sting of rejection pressing her back, but she forced a smile and tried again.

“Hey,” Carol said to another girl, pointing at her shoes. “We have the same ones.” The girl rolled her eyes and laughed. “Ew. Why are you dressed like a boy? That jacket is ick.”

Another girl gave a half-hearted, “You guys,” but the group kept laughing. Carol dropped her eyes, not wanting to see their smirks. Her throat tightened, and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. Why couldn’t she be cool like them?

Then Mary spoke again. “So, do you think James Wilson is cute?”

Carol blinked, startled. Her guard shot up. “No,” she said quickly. James was in their class, but she hadn't really thought much about him. She'd missed the memo on when boys had stopped being gross.

“Well, I think he’s cute,” Mary said. “We all do. You got a problem with him?”

Carol shook her head quickly. “No, I just, Yeah, I guess he’s kind of cute.”

One of the girls burst out laughing, and Mary suddenly turned, striding toward the basketball court. Carol’s stomach dropped as she watched Mary lean close to James, whispering something in his ear. His head jerked up, eyes landing on Carol. His face twisted in disgust.

Laughter erupted. “Carol likes James! Carol likes James!” voices chanted behind her.

Her chest tightened, her eyes flooded, and before she could stop herself, she turned and fled. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed, racing behind the school building. She pressed herself against the wall, hiding, breaking down where no one could see.

No matter how much she tried, she was always alone.

Carol wiped her cheeks and made her way back to the classroom. Her face still burned, but she figured she could hide behind her folders and keep her head down until the day moved on. She slipped through the door as quietly as she could. A few students were scattered at their desks, bent over projects, while Ms. Wilkens sat at her computer with her back to the room. Carol slid into her seat, pulled out two folders, and set them upright like a shield. With her little wall in place, she rested her head and tried to disappear.

“Wanna help me?” a voice broke the silence.

Carol lifted her eyes and saw Jess on the floor with a roll of butcher paper spread wide. She held out a marker, her nails chipped and dirty, dark black bangs spilling into her eyes. Jess always stayed inside at recess. She had given up on fitting in long ago.

Carol hesitated, then reached for the marker and knelt beside her. “Thanks," she whispered, glancing at the drawing of Europe Jess had sketched, and begun to fill in with colours and smaller drawings relating to the countries.

Jess smiled, and together they began to colour it in. With each stroke, the tight weight in Carol’s chest started to loosen. Jess was always kind.

So why did it matter so much what the other girls thought? Why did she want their friendship so badly?

Carol tried to be nice, but somehow it was never enough.

They were cruel, and still everyone adored them.

Why?

Now




“You're missing another party at Corey's? You know everyone is going to be there.”

Carol closed her locker with a slight flick of her wrist, with a last quick look at the small mirror hanging from the back. “Well, obviously not.” She replied with a quick wave to herself, leaning back against the lockers as she regarded Kelly, her cheer co-captain as the other girl gave her a particularly withering look.

“I don't know how you think this is going to fly, you've missed a bunch of practices too lately, what if any of the rest of us just decided to stop bothering?” It was hardly as if attendance at ‘extra curricular’ activities were really relevant to the cheer team, but they were certainly relevant to the vaguely murderous nature of highschool student body politics.

“I doubt that would be much of an issue.”

“And why not?”

“People actually want me at their parties, Kells.”

The quick retort followed by a teasing wink brought a quick snort of laughter from an approaching figure that moved up close to the two girls just as Kelly was no doubt about to reply in turn. “Oooh the girls have their claws out today.”

“Don't go letting her off easy, Michael, you've noticed it to.” Kelly fixed Michael, the ever fashionably dressed classmate of theirs, with a look that both managed to be a pout and authoritative.

Michael gave the pair a pointed look over a pair of no doubt far too expensive sunglasses. “I just want out of this day without a cat fight after last bell.” When Kelly was in the process of throwing up her hands in frustration, he did add. “But she is right, Carol, a show needs its star.”

“I wouldn't have put it like that.” Kelly muttered as Carol laughed, only further as a smirking Michael finished his words with an over acted bow. As far as Carol knew the pair of them had been friends since forever, but even since Carol had moved into town the duo had become a trio, as much as the backstabbing of inevitable prom queen and king candidates could ever be united.

“Don't worry guys, I'm not planning on missing any more training.” She paused suspenseful, before adding, “And I've got a killer plan for reminding everyone what its like to have a Danvers at your soirée.” She spoke with a flutter of eye lashes. “But I'll tell you all about that later, gotta dash.” She spoke as she swept away, just about catching.

“What's she even got to do? Everyone knows her dad's a-” She blanked out whatever was coming. As she pushed through the crowding of students making a break for home and freedom.

It took her longer to get far enough away from the school by matters mundane than it did before she was soaring through clouds a hundred miles away from the drama and politics of senior year.

She loved to fly, she'd loved it from the moment Stevie had first taken her up in a plane. She'd been so excited and proud of her brother, couldn't believe the amazing things he could do.

Now she could fly, not through the tricks of humanity's ever advancing technology, but her and her alone.

“Eat your heart out Stevie, love you forever.” She called out in the rush of wind, letting out a long laugh of grief and joy rushing together. Ever as her powers pulled the electron magnetic fields of reality around her enough to propel her through the air, the force of the air rushing against her danced in glittering light over her skin, a thousand tiny impacts feeding the swell of energy bursting beneath her skin.

She banked upwards in the air, soaring past a cloud front that towered like a mountain in the sky, feeling the hold of air lessen around her, before rocketing down the other side of Mt Cloud. Clouds could do a real number on her hair.

“Operative Warbird, report.” The voice sounded clearly in her ear despite the rush of wind, the work of fancy tech from the Pentagon placed into one of her piercings.

“Aye aye Cap'n," she spoke back, with a salute that was really just to herself as she flew.

“That…is not proper r….Nevemind, did you receive the brief?”

Carol could quite easily feel the irritation in General Erickson's voice even through the modulation caused by the audio technology functioning in her personal flight. That brought a more spiteful twinge to her current state of enjoyment. Erickson had taken command of the Warbird project after Mar'vell's work had proven successful and she had little doubt he considered her an unfortunate vapid tag along to the enormous power within her. She hadn't tried too hard to disabuse him of the notion, mostly because she trusted the man even less than she did Kelly if she'd had a chance to take over as Cheer Captain.

“Yes General, that's why I'm currently airborne. You've uncovered a well defended oceanic Hydra facility you need removed in the name of truth, justice, liberty, all those nice things.” As she finished her plummet from the cloud cover, she instead swooped low over the ocean, low enough to trail her hand through a wave that churned with the force of the wild Atlantic ocean.“There's a narrow window to work before they know that we know, I hope they don't pick me up on radar first.”

“Warb- Miss Danvers, you are far too small a target to appear on conventional radar.”

“Oh my God, so you think I'm skinny!?” She hoped the squeal of her voice, a perfect immitation of one of her favourite viral TikTok's, could be picked up miles away within the facility that functioned as Mar'vell's lab and the headquarters of Project Warbird.

“That is not what-”

“Easy there General, I know how radar works, closing in on target, Warbird out.” Her tone became more serious as she paused to place the covering of her demi-helm over her features, the rush of air on her ears lessening as it concealed her features. The long trail of her blazing blonde hair slipping out and into the helmet plume in a motion she had to practice far too many times to admit.


“Lets push these Mach numbers, baby,”
She spoke to herself, before forcefully crashing through an oceanic wave. For all the rules of aerodynamism this would have been a terrible idea for someone attempting to push their speed, but even as the drag of the full churn of water pulled her back, the impact of the force rippled through her. A sudden rush of resistance registered briefly as pain before it gave way to rush of energy, empowering her even more, before she burst forwards in a sonic boom which cast aside the rest of wave.

The amalgam that rose before her in the sea seemed part oil rig, part submarine, a cascade of shielded platforms gathered around a central vessel with the ability to submerge. It likely only needed a few minutes at the surface before it could dive low, back into the protection of anonymity. Too bad she was here. She might not have shown up on radar, but any conventional means of detection like ‘looking out of a window’ might have given anyone aboard a sudden revelation, only a few moments before Carol Danvers, Warbird, collided with some of the most advanced paramilitary technology in the world, and turned it into only so many splinters.




She moved like a star reborn through the craft, a blazing golden light that pulled apart all around it. The organisation, Hydra, was mostly a secretive one, but she'd been given enough details from her handlers to not feel too poorly for those caught in her orbit. It was not that she sought to snuff out the lives of those around her, but disabling the station was her priority. Carol took care not to directly blast apart any of the scattering crew, saving the worst intensity of her attacks for the more automated defences that looked to strike her down.

She was surging with enough power now that when an automatic turret fired a salvo directly into her the impacts registered purely as a patter of generating force within her, a not unpleasant feeling. Carol even allowed it to continue for a moment before blasting it apart with a single photon blast, then striding into the final central chamber.

If many had fled in fear from her before, this room was a hive of even greater dashing back and forth, but between consoles. Whether they were attempting to summon aid or simply rid themselves of evidence, it largely stopped at the glowing form of Warbird punched her way through the suddenly closed blast doors.

“Alright folks, let's all surrender before I have to manually break everything.” She offered, lifting slightly off the ground to give her some more impressive height, and thus intimidation as she spoke. Many of those present did indeed stop in place, others falling to their knees in a more overt submission, but most notably not the individual at the central console.

“One of Erickson's lab creations… so much power, with us you could be free of weak men grasping your leash.

“Aren't you guys, like, Nazis?” The simple question seemed to put a sudden stop to whatever meaningful rant the site director was about to embark on.

“What..I don't see..”

“Yeah, sorry, one of my best friends is gay and black so that's probably not going to work, sure it would have been a great speech though.” Carol's feet touched down as she spoke, ever close to the man.

“Insolent child, you know nothing of-”

Her final, much more restrained, photon blast took him sailing across the room to land in a crumble of limbs.

“Everyone else ready to give up and wait for the Navy? Great stuff.”

I for one don't really understand 'not' being open for collabs or cross over content in a group game so once I get my intro for Carol up (I have possible overwritten things yet again) I am all for getting involved with other things.

W A R B I R D
W A R B I R D

"Higher, Further, Faster, Baby!"
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Carol Susan Jane Danvers / Car'Ell
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19 | Single
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The US Government | United States of America

N O T A B L E A B I L I T I E S & T O O L S
N O T A B L E A B I L I T I E S & T O O L S
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N O T A B L E S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
N O T A B L E S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
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T H E S T O R Y S O F A R...
T H E S T O R Y S O F A R...
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The life of Carol Danvers has not been easy. Early in her life she and her two older brothers would consistently move around following the military career of her father, Joe Danvers, any stresses of such lost on Carol at such a young age. However, her father was honourably discharged following an injury that largely cost him the use of his right leg. Joe had never been a particularly warm or attentive father, but he further adapted to civilian life poorly, even if the worst of his harsh expectations fell upon his two older, and male, children. While her older brothers had known their mother, Carol never did, having gone missing shortly after Carol’s birth, a relationship she certainly felt the absence of keenly.

Early in her time in education, now settled in Boston, Carol became something of an outcast, teased for her devastating home situation, She made few friends, which, combined with the lack of affection, or even basic recognition, from her father, only further compounded her isolation. While she had a single good friend, her main solace was her brothers, who, being substantially older than Carol, would soon be out of the day-to-day picture. This would prove to be even more total than expected, for pushed by their father’s demanding standards and his own expectations, both joined the US Army, careers that were well regarded if tragically short-lived, as both would perish in separate, but simultaneous, Middle Eastern conflicts. Any grasp Joe Danvers had on a sense of family died along with them.

With no sense of family at home, Carol took it upon herself to never be the butt of jokes again among her peers. She shed the small number of true, but equally outcast, friends and instead dominated her social circles. If she couldn’t hold people’s affection, she could hold their respect. Athletic abilities she had honed in sports she had enjoyed were turned on climbing the 'ranks' of highschool cheerleading, and a burgeoning charisma went from brief forays in stage and drama work to holding the attention of her peers.

As she neared the end of her High School education, after several years of the 'new and improved' Carol Danvers, her abilities began to manifest. Relatively minor changes to her strength, speed and durability soon became increasingly extreme. Her own experimentation with such no doubt revealed her changing nature to an observant watcher. She was approached by Dr Walter Lawson, a research specialist for the US Air Force, at first under the guise of seeking to recruit a promising candidate, and then more truthfully, as Mar-Vell, exile of the Kree. He revealed to Carol that her mother's true name had been Mari-Ell, a fellow fugitive from the Kree Empire, and assistant to the Doctor in his research on Earth. The pair had initially come to Earth on a mission from the Empire, deliberately seeking to splice human and Kree DNA, before eventually defecting to their new home, trading secrets of interstellar intelligence and technology for the US government in exchange for acceptance. The loss of Mari-Ell, for even the Doctor knew not what had happened to her, had been a great harm to his project, but now with her daughter, he could proceed.

Carol was not particularly inclined to assist for the Doctor's own sake, but instead out of a desire for a connection she had lost in any other aspect of life, as well as the suggestion the work could further enhance her abilities. Indeed, the introduction of the ancient Nega-bands to Carol not only destroyed the Kree relic, but supercharged her abilities above and beyond those of even the most powerful of the genetically engineered Kree warriors. As part of Mar-Vell's arrangement with the US government, the success of the project was reported. Carol has taken on the alias of Warbird, and begun to use her powers in the role of a hero, but one that ultimately reports in to the often mysterious leadership of the Pentagon.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
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One of the more interesting recent villains that Carol Danvers has faced in the main marvel canon is Star, a woman of similar power level to Carol with an equally (if not more so) troubled background but without the structure of military training to discipline her and instead highly connected to the darker elements of the US military/industrial complex. I thought it would be interesting to take this concept and apply it to Carol herself, with her powers manifesting earlier in her life. Ultimately there is still a good person within Carol who feels a call to use her powers for good, but it is more directly in conflict with her childhood trauma of neglect and loneliness, as well as the trials and tribulations of later high school/early college life.



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