Half Pint

MARVELS: Streets of New York

Was the website down for everyone else the last couple of days?

@Retired

Yep, it was definitely down yesterday for a while! I was a bit worried it would have been guildfall 2 lol

Teen Titans: Secret Origins - A Re-Imagined DC Canon RP

Megan entered the floating green limo with great curiosity. Of course, she had seen Kyle's light constructs before, but being that she could fly she'd never had any need to be transported by them. Nevertheless, there was something delightfully surreal about climbing into a glowing emerald limousine flanked by her two team-mates in their full hero gear. She'd always loved the prom episodes of the old sitcoms she watched growing up, it almost felt like she was in one had it not been for the alien driving the car and the destination being a disaster zone.
"All this needs is a corsage and a chaperone." she quipped with a smile, settling into her seat.

For a moment her mind traced back to the 'Squire and Paladin' comments from before. If those two were the dashing knights, what did that make her? She searched for an answer, but to her knowledge the only green things she could think of were monsters, goblins and orcs. Was that how others saw her? A monster? An other? She didn't like the thought. It sat heavy in her chest, she'd be lying if she said it was an unfamiliar feeling. She shook the thought out of her head, it was just insecurity playing up again. There were more important things to worry about now, civilians to save and bad guys to beat up.

They arrived on the scene surrounded by chaos. Troia had made the right decision sending Green Lantern on this mission, without him the casualties from the collapsing building would have been too many to think of, now there were none to speak of. She floated over to the guards frozen in place. She'd suspected Cinderblock must have had help to escape as soon as the call came in. Saying he was all brawn and no brains was putting it lightly, the only surprising part of all this was the ice. With a few light punches she carefully shattered the ice rooting the guards in place enough for them to break free. One of them nodded to her, murming out a quick 'Thanks', and she gave him a reassuring smile in return before floating backward towards Robin. Her skin prickled. Something was wrong.

That was when the cold hit.

A sudden whoosh of sub-zero wind howled down the street like a shrieking banshee, sending the two diving out of the way, and in its wake came a jagged wave of ice. It erupted from the crowd, catching the early morning sun as it twisted upward, an unnatural glacier clawing across the asphalt. Megan turned in time to see the green shimmer of Kyle's shield snap into place as a reflexive wall.

But the attack didn't stop there. It veered, unpredictably and deliberately, away from the Titans and toward the civilians huddled behind rubble and twisted metal. The very people Kyle had just saved.

A few were caught instantly. Megan's heart lurched as a pair of figures froze mid-sprint, their terrified faces locked behind translucent frost. Others screamed as the wave of icicles burst up from beneath them, spearing out of the pavement like some grotesque crystalline forest.

Robin turned over his shoulder as he charged towards the villain.
"Martian, handle the civilians. You could free them faster than anything I've got. I'll cover you while GL's getting a second wind."

She didn't hesitate.
"On it!"

She shot toward the nearest group, phasing through a crumbling car and weaving between falling debris like a ghost. The mother and child were the first she reached. Encased up to their knees in jagged ice, they trembled as the frost spread slowly upward. Megan pressed her hands against the ice and closed her eyes, letting her mind unfurl into the structure like vines through stone.

The ice trembled, then cracked with a crystalline groan. She guided the shards away from their skin with delicate control, reshaping rather than shattering it. She breathed deeply, this was a way she'd used her telekinesis that she'd never thought of before. Once free, the child clung to her without a word, sobbing. Megan held him for a moment, before gently floating both mother and son toward safety.

The air behind her flashed as Robin launched into one of his acrobatic assaults, a blur of Bird-a-rangs and staffwork, all distraction and misdirection.

"Hang on, Robin." she whispered to herself, moving faster.

Another civilian, a security guard, was pinned beneath a twisted lamppost entombed in ice. Megan phased downward, solidified just enough to grip the frozen metal, and with a grunt of psychic force she bent it sideways. The man yelped as the pressure vanished from his ribs, coughing through the cold.

"You're okay. Get moving. That way!" she ordered, pointing toward the green shimmer of Kyle's regrouping construct.

The world erupted again in a burst of light. She shielded her eyes just in time to catch the edge of Robin's flash grenades exploding against Icicle Jr's face. The villain's scream echoed through the ruins. She didn't need enhanced hearing to feel the rage boiling off him.

"Lantern! Martian! I've bought you a minute!"

She was confident a minute would be all they needed. She turned sharply towards the cluster of civilians that had been caught in the direct path of the ice and were now pinned to the wall. Jagged spikes jutted out from the ground in wild, irregular formations, and some had shot up with such force they pinned people against the fractured remains of a shopfront wall. Coats were speared. Arms pressed back at unnatural angles. One man's pant leg was hooked and frozen, leaving him dangling half-sideways like a marionette.

Megan's stomach turned, but she didn't waste a second. She dropped into a hover just feet from the wall, eyes scanning the ice formations. Phasing them all out at once was too risky, the angles were unpredictable, and some spikes had lodged dangerously close to skin. If she tried to do too much at once she'd surely end up injuring someone. She mentally thanked Robin for giving them a bit of breathing room, and hoped in part that her mental gratitude stayed inside her own head.

She reached out with her telekinesis, fingertips moving like a conductor's baton. The ice responded, cracking with soft groans as she bent the spikes gently away from cloth, away from flesh. Some she twisted sideways until they snapped free from the wall, others she reshaped entirely, curling their tips down like the edge of a wave.

A teenage girl fell forward with a gasp as the shard through her hoodie snapped away. Megan caught her mid-collapse, steadying her and pointing her toward a patch of cover behind a flipped city bus. She moved down the wall, freeing another, a delivery driver with a bloodied arm and panic in his eyes. The ice pinning his sleeve to the bricks shattered with a controlled flick. She phased just enough to slip past him, guiding his descent as he stumbled away.

By the time the last of them was free, her breath had quickened. Cold stung her skin. The ambient temperature had dropped again. She rose up into the air, sparing a glance back. The civilians were moving, wounded and scared perhaps, but alive. She allowed herself a breath of relief before turning back toward the fight. Icicle Jr was regaining his composure, and she could see Robin gearing up for his next assault. She drifted to his side, shoulders squaring.

"I think that's everyone safe!" She spoke, a hint of nervousness in her tone. Her attention turned to their enemy now, and she put on as brave a voice as she could. "I've never fought a walking icicle before." she said, more to herself than to Robin. "Time to crank the justice thermostat all the way up to warm! It was evident that quipping still eluded her as she glanced at the confused experssions around her for approval. "...But like, uncomfortably warm!"

Teen Titans: Secret Origins - A Re-Imagined DC Canon RP

@Master Bruce
For totally non obvious reasons...

MARVELS: Streets of New York

The elevator opened with a soft chime, and Morbius stepped out into silence. Dr. Jacob Weisenthal's penthouse hadn't changed. The last time Morbius had stepped foot here he was normal, human.

Books lined every available surface, arranged with the kind of obsessive precision that spoke to either genius or madness, though with Jacob, it was always a little of both. Floor to ceiling windows gave way to a view of the city's glittering sprawl, a stark contrast to the sterile quiet within. Soft jazz murmured from a record player in the corner, it felt like centuries since Morbius had last sat with his old friend listening to records.

Morbius moved like a shadow through the room, soundless but undeniable. Jacob emerged from the kitchen in slippers and a bathrobe, a glass of something amber in hand. He froze mid-step when he saw him, almost dropping his glass before regaining his composure.

"Michael."

Morbius didn't smile. Unfortunately this wasn't the reunion Jacob had wished for.

"I need your help."

Jacob stared for a long second, then exhaled through his nose and set the glass down. "Of course you do." He walked past without fear, maybe out of old familiarity, maybe because he'd learned long ago that fear was wasted on Morbius. He gestured to the leather couch. "Sit, or brood. Either way, make yourself at home. You already let yourself in." Morbius stood, unmoving, then drew the vial from his coat and held it out. Jacob took it carefully between thumb and forefinger, squinting at the worn lettering. "‘Trial Use Only' ...Where did you find this?"

"In an alley." Morbius said bluntly. "Beside a body with no blood left. Not drained the way I'd do it. No marks. No mess. Just ..nothing."

Jacob glanced up, something flickering behind his eyes. Not fear. Concern. "You're saying it wasn't you."

"If it was..." Morbius retorted "I wouldn't be here."

Jacob turned, moving to a small desk tucked beneath a wall of medical texts. He flicked on a lamp and withdrew a case of clean instruments. "This isn’t consumer tech." he muttered. "No ID number. Nothing commercial. Probably prototype. Experimental." He uncapped the syringe, sniffed delicately, then froze.

Morbius watched him. "You recognize it?"

"I don't know what it is." Jacob said slowly. "But I know what it isn't. This isn't anesthetic. It isn't a blood thinner, and it's not a street drug. This is something else entirely. I'll need a proper analysis. Mass spectrometry, maybe." He stopped, looked back at Morbius. "You sure you want to know what this is?"

Morbius' voice was low, but steady. "I need to know who else has been playing god in my city."

Jacob nodded. "Give me a few nights."

Morbius turned to leave but hesitated at the glass doors leading to the balcony. He glanced back over his shoulder, his silhouette distorted in the reflection. "Jacob." he said, his voice sounding almost human again. "Thank you."

Jacob didn't look up, still inspecting the vial in his hands. "You can thank me when this doesn't lead to something worse."

Morbius stepped into the night. A moment later, he was gone. For Morbius, it only ever lead to something worse.

Teen Titans: Secret Origins - A Re-Imagined DC Canon RP

<Snipped quote by Hillan>

Why would he intentionally look in on people changing? Is he a voucher?

Petition to have all walls in the tower lead lined

@Sep

Is there a better team building exercise than joint lead poisoning?

Teen Titans: Secret Origins - A Re-Imagined DC Canon RP

^{Interactions: Mainly @Master Bruce and @Hillan}

Megan watched as each member of the team entered the command centre. Kyle was the first in, offering his services to transport those less aerodynamically inclined as the rest filtered through the door. She had to admit, the thought of Arsenal, Robin, and Stitch all bouncing around inside a hardlight orb like a superhero Gashopon made her chuckle a bit to herself. The T-Jet itself was a thing of beauty to Megan. She could fly of her own volition of course, but the jet offered a much cosier and more conversational mode of travel. It also reminded her to some aspect of the Bio-ship she flew to Earth in, and to a lesser degree the space station she was brought up in. One of the things she found strangest about being on Earth was actually being on a planet itself, gravity felt strange to someone who had only ever felt it artificially.

"Had we executed Cinderblock as I suggested last time," Troia interjected, "We would not be dealing with this problem in the present."

She kept quiet as Troia brought up her suggestion of using lethal force on Cinderblock during their last encounter. It had certainly divided the group, and Megan wasn't exacly sure where she stood on the topic. Of course, Troia's point made a lot of sense. Had they allowed her to 'execute' Cinderblock last time they wouldn't be dealing with this now, and the fallout of his continued rampage would have been minimized greatly. Maybe it was the White Martian in her agreeing with such force, but deep down she couldn't help but feel it wasn't the way. In her time with J'onn he had instilled in her such morals, trying to mold her with Earth's ideals and laws rather than that of Mars. She paled to think what would have happened if her parents had been the ones to teach her right or wrong, execution would have come second to suffering had they had the opportunity. Perhaps she overcompensated the other way as a result of this, forced herself to be too merciful in her own act of small rebellion against Galleon-9.

"The Squire and the Paladin," Troia replied, gesturing towards Kyle and Robin. "Perhaps, Lady M'Gann, her abilities may prove beneficial."

She snapped out of her daydream as the image of Robin and Kyle dressed as medieval knights galloped its way into her imagination. She couldn't help but grin to herself. Troia's experience as a warrior was showing, she was glad that the Valkyrie was taking the lead. Jupiter had been more than welcoming since she had joined the team, and she found some solace in a fellow telepath being his right hand man. If she was anything like Megan, then lying wouldn't be her strong suit.

She turned to Robin as he nudged her, smiling back at his nightlight comment. She followed the two out, gently floating behind them as they made their way out of the room.
"I just wonder which one of you Troia thinks is the Squire and which one is the Paladin." She said plainly, unknowingly potentially adding further insult to injury.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

The alley reeked of bleach.

Morbius crouched on the rooftop ledge, watching the narrow space below like a hawk watching a field already stripped of prey. Three nights had passed since another body was found, bloodless, lifeless, dumped like garbage between two dumpsters off Delancey. The newspapers called it a "cult killing." Social media screamed vampires. The cops had already moved on, another body tagged and bagged in a city too busy to mourn its dead. But Morbius hadn't left. Something about this whole thing was wrong. Wronger than usual. He'd seen his fair share of weirdos on both sides of the super spectrum, but this was just weird.

He dropped down silently, boots splashing in a shallow puddle. The chalk outline had already faded, washed away by the rain, but the scent still lingered. Not blood, that was long gone. It was something else, something sharp and chemical. The kind of smell you didn't associate with an alley but with a lab. Or worse, a hospital that stopped caring about patients.

He knelt, talons tracing the cracked concrete. No drag marks. The body hadn't been moved here postmortem, it had died here. A controlled space. Cleaned afterward. Too clean. His fingers brushed a piece of metal tucked against the wall. It was small, he almost missed it. A needle. No, not quite, a fine syringe, still capped, marked with faded lettering. He held it up to the moonlight. Most of the print had worn off, but three words were still faintly legible.

"Trial Use Only."

His eyes narrowed. He slipped the syringe into a pouch on his belt and turned to leave, then paused. A faint vibration ran through the bricks beside him. Not sound, not movement. Something deeper. A whine, almost imperceptible, building beneath the surface like a buried machine.

He followed it.

Teen Titans: Secret Origins - A Re-Imagined DC Canon RP

Locutus of Borg?

MARVELS: Streets of New York

Just writing to check in! I've been holding off making a post as I didn't want to progress past the fire event without others rounding off their parts of the story. I just thought I'd make a post to let everyone know I'm still here!

Teen Titans: Secret Origins - A Re-Imagined DC Canon RP

It's so very lonely, you're a thousand light years from home

---

Just over a year ago
Galleon-6

---

Galleon-6 had been M'Gann's home since she could remember. The cold, dark, derelict mining station drifted in orbit like a forgotten memory. A skeletal construct of old Martian tech from long before the Martian civil war, tucked between asteroid shadows in a place no one thought to look, not that anyone was. On its surface, nothing stirred amidst the silence of space. But inside, panic simmered beneath fluroescent lights.

Red warning lights blinked down a narrow corridor. Footsteps echoed against sterile metal. M'gann pressed her back against the wall, breathing shallowly, the psionic static of approaching minds scraping against her skull like rusted wire.

Almost there.

She clutched a small orb tight against her chest, a neural decryptor she'd risked everything to steal. It hummed softly in her grip, glowing faintly green. With it, the Bio-Ship, stashed just beyond the outer bay doors would finally respond to her thoughts. The last hope for escape was just beyond her grasp, it was too late to turn back now, this was her only shot.

Voices closed in.

"Zone 4's compromised. She must've looped the feed, check the hangar!" The voice was of Va'korr Rhezz, her uncle. She didn't recognise his harsh tone as his voice bellowed through the halls. It was sharp, commanding, and far colder than the gentle voice she remembered from childhood.

A shiver ran up her spine. Not out of fear. Guilt. She still felt them all, her cousins, her kin, the neural imprint of their thoughts brushing hers like static snow. Even now, they didn't hate her. Not really. They pitied her. Pitied her for even having the thought of escaping.

M'gann pushed the feeling down and ran.

Her boots struck the grated flooring, limbs narrowing and features softening mid-stride as she shed the last vestiges of her Martian form. Her body shimmered, smoothing into the shape of a human girl, still bearing the same build, the same posture, but now with freckled skin and auburn hair, her eyes a striking green that masked the glow beneath. She'd practiced this form for months in secret, copying the transmissions that came through from Earth and making sure no one else on the station caught her.

She didn't need the disguise to fool them, they'd see through it instantly. But shifting into the human girl felt right. It was the version of herself she'd spent months quietly perfecting. This form was hers, not something inherited or assigned. It reminded her what she was running toward, not just what she was running from.

The launch bay loomed ahead, the curve of the Bio-Ship's hull reflecting crimson pulses from the ceiling. It saw her. She could feel its silent thoughts stirring, melding with her own mind as the neural decryptor began to glow more vividly.

The bulkhead behind her hissed open.

"M'gann, stop! You don’t know what you're doing!"

Her brother's voice. Garrek. Always the loyal one. Always louder in her head than anyone else. He stopped for a moment, taking in the sight of the strange alien being that his sister had taken the shape of.

"I do." she said, barely louder than a breath. "That's why I’m leaving."

She didn't wait for the reply. Nothing he could have said in that moment would have convinced her to stay.

The ship's ramp descended as she reached it, tendrils of light wrapping gently around her arms, pulling her in like an embrace. The metal screamed as doors slammed behind her, plasma bursts rattling the air as her brother's team fired after her retreating form.

The Bio-Ship surged forward, bursting from the station's hangar like a bird breaking free of its cage. Alarms faded into the vacuum of space as M'gann collapsed into the cockpit, she could feel herself shaking as the silence overwhelmed her. For a moment she felt doubt within her, it wasn't just her family and friends she was leaving behind, but to her she was abandoning the entire known universe to set sail for the new world. She pulled her knees up to her chest as anxiety rippled through her.

A voice, not hers, but inside her mind all the same, broke the silence whispering gently.

"Destination?"

She didn't answer right away. For a moment she was startled, before she quickly understood the Bio-ship had fully merged with her mind. She rose to her feet, making her way over to a window and peering out. Through the viewport, Galleon-6 shrank behind her, a dying light among stars that no longer held meaning. M'gann closed her eyes, steadying herself.

"Earth."

And the stars bled into streaks as the ship slipped into FTL, carrying her what felt like a thousand light years from home, and finally, toward a place to begin again.

---

Present Day
Titan Tower

---

Megan had been awake for a few hours now, she'd struggled to sleep after landing on earth, and struggled even further after arriving in San Francisco. She spent the wee hours of the morning in the living room, curled on the far end of the living room couch, eyes glued to the flickering images on a flat-screen TV as the movie 'Airplane'. She was watching like it was the news, studying every exaggerated gesture and over the top joke. To her this wasn't a wacky comedy, it was homework. If one thing had eluded her about speaking with humans, it was humour, that and sarcasm. On the screen, a man piloting the plane was sweating profusely while the music swelled, wiping his brow with a nervous look on his face. Megan blinked, trying to piece it together. Why was it funny that he was sweating? Was the plane hot? Was it a metaphor?

She rubbed the centre of her brow, squeezing her eyes shut. The headache's had started not long after she'd arrived in San Francisco. A soft throb behind her eyes, like her thoughts were trying to stretch into too many shapes at once. She'd put it down to the jet lag and lack of sleep, but in truth it was taking a lot of her mental power not to have her telepathy on all the time. She'd made for an awkward introduction to the rest of the team after communicating with them mentally when they first met. Something which she quickly came to realise was somewhat of a faux-pas.

There were so many minds on earth. Alien in their familiarity. Scattershot and fast-moving. Even now, at this hour, she could feel the edges of them brushing faintly against her own. She took a deep breath, reaching out for the still warm mug of tea on the table in front of her and taking a sip. She'd been told tea helped with headaches. It didn't.

The alarm sounded, not exactly helping the headache, but nonetheless a break from the monotony. Her eyes drifted upwards to the speaker system in the corner of the room as Jupiter's voice rung out. She hit the off button on the TV as she rose to her feet and hurriedly made her way back to her room.

The space was still mostly empty, just a bed, a desk, and a few small things she'd brought with her. A photo clipped from a decades old Earth magazine, taped next to her mirror. A potted plant she wasn't sure how to take care of. And a small carved token from her bunk back on Galleon-6, tucked carefully between the folds of a spare sweater. She moved to the mirror and caught sight of her reflection, still in the oversized sweater, hair slightly frizzed, eyes heavy with sleep and thought. For a moment, she just stared. She hadn't shifted back yet.

The human girl in the mirror looked out of place among the futuristic tech and stark lines of the Titans' Tower. Her freckles were smudged from sleep, her hair wild around her shoulders, and the band logo across her sweater, The Flaming Lips, was cracked with wear.

The uniform was folded neatly at the foot of her bed. It still felt like a costume, but one she'd chosen. She slipped out of the sweater, shaking herself out of the lingering tiredness, and began dressing with practiced care. The suit clung and adjusted, syncing to her frame with a soft whisper of fabric against skin. It fit better today than it had during their first encounter against Cinderblock. That was something at least. She added the final touch, changing into her Green Martian form, her iris' fading until her eyes became a solid red.

She left her room, gliding along the floor towards the briefing room, the doors sliding open with a hiss as she approached. Troia had made it there before her, ever the eager warrior. She'd arrived just in time to overhear Jupiter clarifying that Cinderblock was back.
"Good morning, everyone. Cinderblock again?" She spoke, crossing her arms as she floated inches above the floor. She glanced toward Troia, offering a a half-smile. "Is this a regular thing for Earth criminals? Show up, get punched into the ground, then reappear like nothing happened?"