Half Pint

Ultimate One Universe: Resistance

Fantastic posts, everyone. It really feels like we're ramping up to something! The world feels really alive.

Ultimate One Universe: Resistance

---

Reed sat opposite Elder once more, this time without Sue by his side. At least, not in a physical capacity. In truth she was monitoring the situation through HERBIE who was hovering quietly next to the two as they spoke. Elder's face looked the same as before - calm, almost too calm for a man in his condition. He had the manner of someone who had lived through too much and learned long ago to keep most of his emotions inside.

"You've been busy." Harvey said, his tone as dry as the dust under their boots. "The first time we met, I wasn't sure if you'd crawl back down here or keep to your glass towers."

Reed gave a tired smile. "Not much glass left in the towers these days." He leaned forward, hands clasped. "But I didn't come here to talk about me. I have an update on who was tracking you."

Elder allowed a surprised expression to pass over his face, he too readjusted in his seat, leaning forward slightly as he braced against the armrest. "You don't say? Well then out with it Reed, I'm anxious to find out who would threaten myself and my children."

Reed paused for a moment, glancing down at Herbie and then back up at Harvey. They had decided to hold back the full story from Elder. Sue had instilled a good sense of caution within her fiance, and even he saw the potential danger in Harvey's reaction to the capabilities of the person tracking him. Nevertheless, they needed help, and they had very few places to turn to. "I can't say it's much of an update, only a small one. We never actually saw the culprit in the flesh he communicated with us through text on a screen. He hooked me up to a chair and forced me to make a decision - delete the safeguard I had in place to protect our identities, or delete our memories from before the Fantastic Four split up."

Elder wasted no time in replying after a short chuckle. "And of course, men as rational as us have no need for mementos, you kept the safeguard, no?" Reed didn't reply vocally, just catching the man in front's gaze with a pleading expression. "Ah, I see. A man must always look forward, Reed, never back. You have painted a target on your hide now, even bigger than the one this....mad thinker has painted on you." Elder sat back in his chair, relaxed a bit more. "Still, as selfish as it sounds this is good news for me. It seems our tracker was using me to get to you rather than vice versa."

Reed opted not to detail their battle with the android. It could stir Elder into a frenzy, there was no need to risk any disturbances. "Good news for you and the moloids." He said glancing up at Belo, who was stood at attention near the makeshift sink at the corner of the room, cleaning dishes no doubt with an ear open for any news.

"Hm. Quite." Spoke Elder "Nevertheless, you've done a service for me here Reed, it gives me a great deal of peace of mind to know that we are under no immediate threat. I would offer to do a favour in return Reed, I will not take no for an answer. The next time your 'Mad Thinker' gets in contact please radio me, I will assist in tracking him. No doubt with our combined efforts we will make short work of this fiend." Reed nodded, glad to have not had to ask for what Elder had so readily offered. "Belo, please show our esteemed friend back to the surface." He clapped his hands and Belo turned, leading Reed out of the room and up through the tunnels.

For a while the two said very little. Reed asked Belo a few personal questions but it was difficult for him to make small talk with 'normal' people - let alone moloids who had lived underground their whole life. The shoddy lantern that hung from Belo's belt made a small clinking noise as they walked, purely for Reed's benefit than Belo who could see clearly in pitch dark. Eventually Belo intercut the idle chatter with a more concerned tone of voice.

"Mr. Richards, I - uh I have something to tell you. Something worrisome that I'm not 100% sure how to communicate to you."

Reed raised an inquisitive eyebrow stopping and turning to face the Moloid. "Yes, Belo?"

"Mr. Richards, things down here are not all as they seem. I'm not sure how to explain it but I feel different from the other Moloids-"

Reed naturally interrupted, a bad habit he'd had since a boy that he'd struggled to fight against. "Well, of course, Belo, you're more evolved. I suspect, Harvey refined his process when managed to revive you and your sisters. No doubt there will be more sentient Moloids to come."

Belo looked uncomfortable, looking down at his feet and fidgeting with his hands. "No, Mr. Richards you don't understand. My sisters and I are not the newest Moloids, we were the first." Reed looked shocked. A million thoughts whizzed around his brain like wasps. He didn't reply. "Please, Mr. Richards, I need to know why I am the way I am." He took a strangely shaped rock from a pouch on his belt and pressed it into Reed's hand. He looked down at it and realised it was a small fossil, unlike any he had seen before. "I stole this from father, please tell me why I am different."

---

Reed burst through the door of the Baxter annex with all of the excitement of a kid in a toy store. He almost ran to the computer and placed the fossil in front of Sue.
"Sue! You will not believe what Belo gave me down in the tunnels!"

Sue sat quietly at the console. She looked up at him, not with her usual amused indulgence at his bursts of enthusiasm, but with a stillness that immediately froze him mid-step. He faltered, his words catching as he saw the way her lips pressed together, the faint redness around her eyes.

"Sue...?" His voice softened. "What is it?" She didn't answer at first, instead reaching out to rest her hand over his, gently drawing his excitement down to the desk. He kneeled and met her gaze at eye level. Her touch was soft against his hands, but there was something in her gaze that made his chest tighten before she even spoke.

"Reed..." she began, and her voice almost broke on his name. She steadied herself with a slow breath. "Tony Stark is dead."

The words hit him like a blow. For a long moment, Reed just stared, as though he hadn't heard her correctly. Then he drew back slightly, blinking, standing up to his full height with a hand covering his mouth and another on his hip as he stared at the ground. HERBIE gave a soft electronic whirr, almost apologetic, filling the silence neither of them seemed able to break.

"When?" he finally managed, looking back at her.

"Today. At a press conference at Stark Industries. There was an attack." Sue looked down, shaking her head. "The newsfeeds have confirmed it. President Lord already made a statement."

Reed lowered himself into the chair opposite her, his long fingers tightening against the fossil Belo had pressed into his palm until the edges bit into his skin. His mind, usually alight with possibilities and patterns, was blank.

"I haven't spoken to him in years." Reed murmured, almost to himself. Sorrow grasping at every word. "Not since before the Reach. We always said we'd compare notes, share ideas, but-" He cut himself off, his voice trailing off into silence.

Sue's lips curved into a small, trembling smile. "Do you remember the first time we met him?"

Reed blinked, and despite himself, a choked laugh escaped. "How could I forget? He walked right up to you and-"

"-and asked me to dinner." Sue finished for him, laughing through the tears welling at the corners of her eyes.

"And the moment he realized you were with me, he made a show of swooning like he was heartbroken and then sent over a bottle of the most expensive bottle of champagne they had." Reed continued, shaking his head. "But every time after that, every single time, he'd rib me about it. 'Richards, how'd a nerd like you end up with her?'"

Sue smiled, wiping tears away from her cheeks. "You know since I found out the news I can't help but think what could have happened if we'd become public earlier. We could have reached out to him and made a real difference. He might've been an arrogant playboy, but he had a good heart. Who knows what we could've achieved as a team."

Reed leaned forward, pressing his forehead briefly into his clasped hands. "The world is down one more altruistic genius. Seems the stores running short on the good guys these days. And Lord will no doubt be already picking through his belongings for anything he can use to get rid of Metas."

The silence stretched between them, filled only by the soft hum of HERBIE's processors.

Sue finally spoke. "This is going to change everything, Reed. The world loved him, hated him, needed him. His death, it's more than just a tragedy. It feels like everything's about to change - about to get worse.

Reed nodded slowly, staring down at the fossil still clenched in his hand. The weight of it felt suddenly symbolic, the past pressing into his palm even as the future shifted beneath his feet.

"Yes." He said quietly. "The balance of everything is about to change." He never realised how true that statement would prove to be.

Ultimate One Universe: Resistance

Back in the office today and finally have some time to think so I'm aiming to actually read everyone's posts I've missed! If everything goes to plan I should have a post up today also.

Ultimate One Universe: Resistance

@Terry Bogard why would Deathstroke attend?

@Sep

If I know one thing about Deathstroke it’s that he loves the sausage rolls you get at a funeral

Ultimate One Universe: Resistance

As an IC event, for players and NPCs it makes sense for. I am planning to have the Two Funerals of Tony Stark. One will be held by Stane. Which your big names and public figures (non fugitives) will go. So Stane will likely invite Lord, Luthor, Trask, Doom etc.

The other will be private held by Rhodey. The FF are obviously invited @Half Pint, I could see Sentinel potentially having crossed paths with the Starks and getting an invite. A member of the Wayne family, depending on how their new player wants to set that history up.

If you feel like your character/s/npcs should get an invite just @ me.

@Sep

This sounds great! I'd love to work on something with the funeral!

Ultimate One Universe: Resistance

@Master Bruce I'm sorry for vanishing for 1000 years! I don't have an excuse, life was lifeing.

Please let me write more ocean documentaries, this time without being inactive between episodes.

@BoomBadaBing

Good to see you back!

Ultimate One Universe: Resistance

<Snipped quote by Half Pint>

Double post but I just saw this

The means with which the Guardians are going to make it to Earth involves Kara punching through time and space in a bit of an emergency to get there. It doesnt tie explicitly into your current plot but even if its just as bread crumbs I feel like that sort of phenomenon would be very Reed Richards relevant.

@Ezekiel

100%! I'd be happy to work on something once you're in a good place with your Guardians!

Ultimate One Universe: Resistance

Lol, this RP goes from concerns about it dying to 4 posts in 24 hours!

A bit of a different post from me here, just to give a bit of breathing room in case anyone is alright to do a collab by next week! Please shoot me a PM if you want to work on something together, otherwise I'll continue with my previous storylines.

Ultimate One Universe: Resistance

---

The snow fell in long, deliberate lines over the jagged cliffs of Doomstadt, as if even the weather knew to carry itself with reverence here. Victor Von Doom sat upon his throne, his metal face resting against a clenched fist, while the fingers of his other hand drummed a quiet rhythm on the armrest.

He had been still for hours, if not in body then in mind. He had no mountains left to conquer, no reason to use his near infinite knowledge for anything his Doombots couldn't already do. Machines purred and ticked softly in the vaulted silence, but their presence was ceremonial at best. Even the fire in the hearth dared not crackle too loud.

The monitors embedded in the walls displayed a dozen threats, a dozen unstable nations, and a dozen more potential crises. Doom ignored them. None warranted his attention today, or any other day for that matter. Latveria was safe for the time being, and would remain so if the other countries of the world knew what was good for them.

His thoughts were elsewhere, as they often were, focused inward. Focused backward.

Richards.

For years the absence of Reed Richards and Susan Storm had been a dull ache beneath his metal skin. A wound that refused to scar over and commit itself to the past. For Doom their disappearance was eternally present, something he could never truly accept. He watched the void they had left incessantly, studied everything they left behind them, measured their downfall to the smallest inch. And, in his quietest moments, hated it. Hated it for stealing from him the only rivals worthy of his intellect - and from the satisfaction of being the one to defeat them.

It had become a ritual. Every anniversary of the day they had disappeared, Doom would return to this chamber and allow the stillness to reach inside of him, to fester within his heart like a parasite. To confront the silence where there had once been challenge. The doors hissed open, Doom glared at the figure entering the room.

A servant in forest green, flanked by two Doombots, crossed the chamber quickly but without panic. The man knelt at the base of the dais and bowed.

"My Lord Doom." he said, "They've returned."

Doom did not move. He continued to glare at the scrawny, pale man at his feet. The words seemed to drift through the chamber like smoke.

"Clarify." he said at last.

"Richards and Storm, my lord. They are alive. News broadcast from New York clearly show them infiltrating the Baxter Building."

The rhythmic drumming of Doom's fingers stopped. His hand closed into a fist, and the wooden armrest beneath it cracked, splintering slightly under the pressure. He stood, the gravity in the room seemed to shift, it felt heavier.

With a motion of his gauntlet, he dismissed the servant. The man bowed again and retreated as the throne room began to shift. Screens unfolding from the walls, arcane projections forming rings around Doom as he stepped forward. Glowing circles danced around his gauntlet, each touch of his fingers conjuring new data.

The face of Reed Richards plastered every screen, staring back at Doom as if he was taunting him. He allowed himself a small smile behind his mask. The game begins again.

---

Victor Von Doom stepped from the ramp of his gleaming aircraft and onto the manicured lawn of the White House as though it were the court of a lesser king. The guards had been given orders to stand down; even the dogs kept behind the gates. The skies were clear. The cameras were rolling. He did not wait to be summoned. He was not here as a petitioner. A flank of Doombots followed him in similar green cloaks, like a procession of bishops walking to the vatican.

He passed through the corridors of American power like a dictator taking hold of new land. Portraits of past presidents seemed to recoil in their frames as he walked past, his armor hissing faintly with each step. When he entered the Oval Office, the room seemed to contract around him, as if shrinking beneath the weight of two egos too vast to share its space.

Inside the Oval Office, Maxwell Lord rose from his seat behind the Resolute Desk, its mahogany surface polished to a mirror sheen, smoothing his cufflinks with an unhurried elegance. Lord was relaxed, smiling as the metal man and his robots filled the room. The two secret service men by his side were decidedly less relaxed.

"Victor!" Lord said, voice silked with civility. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Doom grimaced at the sound of his first name. It had been years since anyone had called him that. "You've asked before." He said, striding closer to the desk without invitation. "You begged, in fact. Latveria does not forget such things. But now, circumstances align. I have reconsidered." He paused. "With conditions."

Lord gestured to the armchairs before the fireplace, then poured two glasses of Bordeaux from a crystal decanter. "I always welcome discussion, Victor, you know that. I'm not an unreasonable man." Begging was not how he would have described his initial request, but he knew better than to deny a man like Doom his small victories.

The tension in the room didn't ease, if anything it grew worse. Doom did not take a seat next to Lord. The psychology of standing above Lord was not lost on him, despite it seeming to have no affect on the president.

"No." he said "You are many things, Maxwell Lord. But unreasonable is not one of them. Calculating, yes. Opportunistic. Predictable in your ambition." He stepped forward, letting his cloak drag across the Oval Office carpet with slow, ceremonial weight. "But not unreasonable." The secret servicemen grew jumpier by the minute, the Doombots stared at them with the kind of malice only an unthinking machine is capable of. "You've wanted me at your little table for years now. Not because you admire Latveria's sovereignty. Not because you respect my rule. But because you know that sooner or later, the world would start to spiral - and when it does, you would need someone smarter than you to keep it from falling apart."

Lord didn't disagree. He took a sip of his wine.

"And now," Doom continued, "You've run out of clever little algorithms and savants. You want me in your Shadow Cabinet because you know Reed would never agree to be a part of this. And with your Iron Patriot programme being shut down your lines of defense are breaking down. The barbarians are at the gate and you need a king to hold them back."

Lord put the wine glass down in front of him and folded his hands. "You’re not wrong."

"I never am." There was a pause. The two rulers never broke eye contact. "You have your roster of titans and tacticians." Doom said, his tone curling with disdain. "But you don't have Reed Richards. Or anyone close to him. And now that he's returned, you need something close enough to keep balance. That is why I'm here. Not to advise your puppets. Not to protect your empire. I want eyes on Richards. I want his moves tracked, his allies exposed. I want full access to the intelligence you scrape from your satellites and your spies."

"You'll have it." Lord said, without hesitationl a smile playing on his lips. "You'll be briefed directly. No filters."

Doom stared at him for a long moment, then finally sat. "Then understand me, Lord. I do not join you for peace, nor prosperity. I join because Reed Richards walks the Earth again, and I will not be denied the end of that story."

Lord nodded once. "So we're agreed."

Doom's voice was as cold as the metal that encased him. "We are aligned. Do not mistake that for friendship."

"No." Lord smiled, "I wouldn't dream of it." He held out his hand to finalise it with a shake. Doom stared down at the fleshy mitten before finally grasping it. Lord held his grip a moment longer than necessary. "Welcome to the Shadow Cabinet."

Doom's hand withdrew. "A foolish name."

Lord smiled. "Perhaps."

Doom turned, his cloak dragging behind him like a shroud. He paused at the doorway, speaking without turning. "Know this Lord. I enter into this alliance begrudgingly, but I am also a man of my word. As long as you hold up your end of the bargain, so shall Latveria."